


Unravelling the Web

by AngelWithAStory



Series: Fake AH Kings [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Blood, Blood and Violence, Fake AH Crew, Fake AH Kings, Graphic Description, Guns, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Past Lives, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6915493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWithAStory/pseuds/AngelWithAStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I don’t know.”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Well, what are you going to do to keep the other Five safe?”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“I don’t know.”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Then they’re going to die.”</i>
</p><p>The Kings once ruled together, and together for a good reason. Nothing good ever happened alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. G.R. - The Kingpin

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm going to level with you: I've written just under half of this and I have a month of exams now. Full transparency means that it will be a _while_ before the next chapter. However, I am planning to make each chapter ~10k words to make up for it. 
> 
> After my AS exams, I'll probably post a bit more frequently, but I hope this first chapter will be enough to satisfy until the next update :D
> 
> This fic will follow a similar pattern to PtSoFT and honestly, I tried to make this easy enough to read without reading the side stories, but there are some (sometimes _major_ ) references that would make sense if they're read :D

_“What are you going to do about Dragonface?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Well, what are you going to do to keep the other Five safe?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Then they’re going to die.”_

_“I_ know _that, Joel. But we both know that I’ll never let that happen.”_

 _“Get a plan together, then._ Make it _so they don’t die.”_

_“You think I don’t know that. I just need to figure out a way to keep them off his radar.”_

_“I don’t think they’ve ever really been off the radar. I knew Geoff and Jack were back the moment they met each other as children. I knew about Gavin when Jack stumbled across him as a confused and lonely teen. I knew about Michael and Ray when they were dumb kids trying to survive adult life. Notice anything yet?_

_“I don’t-”_

_“Dragonface only noticed them when they were reunited. And now that they’re back together, nothing on this damn Earth will force them apart. That’s the only chance that they’ll be hidden from Dragonface anymore: alone and completely separated. You think that’s a good plan?”_

_“Of course not.”_

_“Then don’t think about keeping them hidden from Dragonface. Make it so they’re untouchable.”_

_“That’ll make them bigger targets.”_

_“Or it’ll make them feared. Train them. Make them better than they are, and then you’ll win.”_

***

“ _Secret Gavin is in position_.”

“ _Secret Jack in position._ ”

“ _Secret Michael thinks these names are fucking stupid_.”

“ _Just go with it Michael, this isn’t your heist_.”

“ _Damn fucking right this isn’t my heist. If it was, we’d have better names._ ”

“ _Michael, just play along._ ”

“ _Fuck you, Ray. We’re gangsters not… I don’t fucking know. The names are stupid._ ”

Geoff laughed and checked the gun in his hands once more. He could hear the others over the earpieces that Gavin and Ryan had come back one day with. Gavin had spent two full hours talking about it and how clever it was until he’d gotten so annoyed when Ray had almost broken his within thirty seconds of Ryan putting it in his hands.

Geoff smiled at the memory and felt Jack gently nudge him from the pilot’s seat of the chopper they were flying in. Jack’s smile was bright but a dark bruise on her cheek and the single stitch along her jaw served as a harsh reminder of their last job. She had a dark, pinstripe suit on and her mask pushed up atop her head like his and her curls were wild as always.

“What are you smiling at, Geoff?” Jack asked, shouting over the sounds of the atmosphere around them.

“Just the kids fighting.” Geoff admitted, revelling in the various reactions over his statement.

“ _Fuck off, Geoff!_ ” Michael said, laughing as he did so. Ray let out his laugh like a Roman Candle from the same car as Michael. Gavin’s small noises akin to squawks were loud enough to be heard even without the earpieces.

“ _I call the oldest._ ” Ray said without too much emotion.

“ _Bullshit are you the oldest!_ ” Michael argued.

“ _Yeah, if anyone’s the oldest, it’s me._ ” Gavin chimed in, causing more noise from Michael and Ray.

“ _No way, you’re some kind of man-child_.” Ray said. “ _You’re the baby_.”

“ _I’ve lived with Geoff and Jack for way longer than either of you two_.” Gavin said, using his only arguing point. “ _Tell ‘em Jack_.”

“Ryan’s the oldest, Gavin’s the middle kid. and Michael and Ray are the youngest twins.” Jack reeled off without a second’s hesitation. Geoff laughed at the chaos that ensued from way down below, almost losing his grip on his gun.

Jack leaned over and gently flicked the switch on Geoff’s earpiece. The sudden silence except for the whir of the propellers above them was jarring but Geoff just focused on Jack’s face looking at him.

“You think this Heist is going to work out for us?” Jack asked, barely audible over the noise. “Think it’ll bump us up a bit more?”

“I think it will.” Geoff said, leaning over so Jack could hear him.

“Willing to bet on it?” Jack’s grin turned a bit mischievous and Geoff felt his heart speed up just the slightest amount.

“What have you got in mind?”

“Ten grand or less and you have to clean the entire apartment, top to bottom.” Jack said, the teasing tone almost hanging off her tongue.

“Ten grand or _more_ ,” Geoff said, thinking up his own counter-proposition. “And you have to teach Gavin to drive by the end of the month.”

Jack’s expression betrayed her for a moment before it broke out in a grin. Geoff _loved_ it when Jack’s playful side broke through.

“You’re on.”

Geoff grinned and leaned forwards momentarily to kiss Jack. He could never get enough of her lips, the small hitch of her breath, the warmth of her skin. Ever since that morning when all they knew was their nightmares, Geoff always made sure that his Crew knew just how much they all meant to him.

Jack pulled away first, aware of the fact that she was _piloting_ a chopper. They lurched to the side just before Jack managed to get it all under control.

“Geoff, next time you kiss Jack, can you make it so there’s _not_ a chance of us dying?” Ryan asked, leaning forwards from his spot in the hold of the helicopter. In the few months since his smoke skull mask-cage thing had disappeared, Ryan had adamantly _refused_ to let anyone touch his hair (or _him_ in general). He fought Jack and the rest of the crew when it grew out and now he had it tied back from his face in a short ponytail. He still wore the skull mask Gavin had given him, for the majority of the day - he was too used to having no face to the world - so thankfully the ponytail was hidden most of the time.

Geoff shyly turned his earpiece back on and heard the chatter from below them.

“ _Geoff, are you done making out with Jack?_ ” Gavin asked.

“Yeah, Gavvy.” Geoff said, settling back into his seat. “Don’t worry, buddy, you’ll understand one day.”

Michael let out a short, sharp burst of laughter and Geoff heard the sound of (presumably) Gavin punching (presumably) Michael’s arm and (definitely) Ray’s loud laughter.

“We’re almost at the site. How far away are you?” Jack said, cutting through the loud and boyish laughter below.

“ _About two minutes, give or take_.” Michael said.

“Give or take what?” Jack asked.

“ _Give or take two minutes. And by that I mean we’re here._ ”

“Alright then,” Geoff chimed in, adjusting his grip on his gun and mentally preparing himself. “Let’s heist, boys!”

***

“What’s the final count?” Geoff asked, holding an icepack to a very nasty bruise on his shoulder from when he was accidentally thrown from a bike in a chase. He has two stitches on his leg from a bad graze with a bullet, and multiple bruises and scratches, but Geoff considered himself _incredibly_ lucky. None of them had been hit badly. None of them were hurt bad enough to warrant either a Doctor or Caleb. None of them had died.

And they made off with _all_ the money.

Not a bad heist at all.

“Just a little under eleven thousand.” Ryan said, tidying the final pile of money and separating them into six piles.

“So, over ten grand?” Geoff asked, a stupid grin coming over him.

“Did you hit your head when you fell off the bike, Geoff?” Michael asked, a nasty bruise blooming along his temple from a fist fight that had happened a few nights before behind a scummy bar with a just as scummy patron.

“Hear that Jack?” Geoff said, turning in his chair to catch Jack walking into the room with a towel around her neck and a fresh, unbloodied pair of clothes on. Her shorts looked like pyjamas and Jack had stolen one of Geoff’s t-shirts. Droplets dripped from her wet hair onto the towel and a few of the nastier bruises were dark against her skin.

“Hear what?” Jack asked, grabbing a bottle of beer and pulling the cap off.

“Gavin’s going to learn how to drive.” Geoff said, a shit eating grin on his face. The beer bottle paused halfway to Jack’s mouth and her gaze flickered between Geoff and Ryan.

“How much?” Her words were pointed at Ryan, who looked back at her with amusement in his eyes.

“Just shy of eleven grand.” Ryan said, knowing full well about their bet.

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” Ray asked, sitting up from where he was flopped on an armchair. He had a beanie pulled low on his head and his hoodie abandoned somewhere in the apartment. Something about Ray had been… more _open_ , ever since that Dragonface fuck had violated their home. It was _nice_ , having Ray more relaxed around the apartment.

“Jack just lost a bet and now she has to teach Gavin how to drive.” Ryan explained, linking his fingers together and resting his chin on them. Michael and Ray both sat forwards, obviously just as happy about this turn of events as the others.

“Dude, either you’re going to die, or you’re going to kill Gavin.” Michael said.

“Hey, I can do it. I’ve done a lot crazier in my lifetime.” Jack said, sitting in the sofa beside Geoff and tucking one leg up under the other.

“I’ll give you two days.” Ray said. “Two full days before you give up.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ray. I’m up to the challenge.” Jack said, holding her beer on her knee. “Gavin will be able to drive before you. How does _that_ make you feel? Gavin would be better at something than you.”

Geoff laughed at the blank look on Ray’s face and he slung an arm over Jack’s shoulders, pulling her close. She leaned into him and settled into his side. But Jack didn’t relax into his embrace.

“Nice try.” He muttered into her wet hair. Jack didn’t respond, still just staring forwards. Looking at nothing.

“Hey, where _is_ Gavin?” Michael said, sitting up with his back too straight, too rigid. His eyes were too blank, his voice too monotone.

Dread settled like lead in Geoff’s stomach as he realised. There were only five people in the room.

Geoff tried to stand up. Tried to get up and go look for Gavin, but he felt something holding him back. He saw Jack’s hands gripping his shoulders, trying to pin him back down. Geoff tried to pry her hands off, but then Ray’s hands were on his arms, pushing them against the sofa with a surprising amount to strength.

Michael joined in, pinning down Geoff’s kicking legs. He was immobilised, trapped. Geoff was forced to watch Ryan stand up and walk around to the back of the sofa. He heard a small _snap_ and felt Ryan’s breath on his ear. Cold hands gripped his head and forced him to look forwards towards the large apartment windows. He expected to watch the city lights, but all he could see was a dark wall and Gavin strung up against it.

His head was heavy towards his chest and Gavin’s thin wrists supported all his weight from two heavy spikes _through_ his flesh. Thin trickles of blood stained his torn up shirt and ran down his sides to drip from his shoes. It took Geoff a few seconds to realise that Gavin’s shirt was torn off just below his ribs, leaving his stomach exposed.

A figure with an elaborate mask stood just beside Gavin, staring directly at Geoff.

 **_Y o u  c o u l d n’ t  s a v e  t h e m  t h e n. Y o u  c a n’ t  s a v e  t h e m  n o w_** _._

Two more figures appeared either side of Gavin, strung up in the same way. They were bare and in the same second, words appeared on the three victims’ stomachs. Gavin let out small whimpers, as if the words _hurt_ as they were written in his flesh. The other two made no sound in contrast. They didn’t move, or react.

It was like they were dead.

(Geoff didn’t want to remind himself that, if his memory _was_ correct, they were long gone.)

The masked figure raised a large decorative dagger that Geoff couldn’t remember them holding, and aimed the point over Gavin’s heart.

“ _NO!_ ”

Geoff’s eyes snapped open and he had to blink a few times before he realised that he was _actually_ looking out at his city. It was still night and the lights from the buildings would have been blinding to any tourist.

The only noise in the silent apartment was very soft snoring that took Geoff a moment to realise belonged to Jack. She must have fallen asleep on the armchair just after he did. The book she had been reading was somewhere on the floor between them and their not-quite-finished beers were abandoned on the table.

Geoff took deep breaths until his heartbeat had slowed down enough to be a healthy pace. God, it had looked too _real_. (As sad as it was, Geoff knew what Gavin looked like when he was in pain and when he bled.) He sat up, holding his head in his hands for a moment.

Soft scraping at the door caught Geoff’s attention and he slowly pulled himself up onto his feet. A small handgun was resting on the coffee table and Geoff grabbed it, holding it too tightly in his grip.

The scraping sounds grew louder as Geoff approached, but he was too tired and freaked out to really comprehend what the noise was. He was a few metres away when the door clicked open gently. Geoff raised the gun, too on-edge to make sensible decisions.

Michael poked his head around the door and froze when he saw Geoff with a gun aimed at his head.

“ _Whoa_ , Geoff.” Michael threw his hands up, stepping into the apartment fully so Geoff could see he was no threat. Geoff took two seconds to register what had happened and then dropped the nozzle of the gun away from his Crew member.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Michael. What the fuck are you doing?” Geoff hurriedly brought his voice down to an angry whisper, aware that Jack was still sleeping a couple metres behind him.

“I went for a drive.” Michael said simply, shrugging. An air of alcohol seemed to surround Geoff and he really hoped that he hadn’t driven like that.

“ _Now_? By yourself?” Geoff heard his own exasperation and forced himself to take a deep breath to calm down.

“Dude, what’s your problem? I like to drive at night, so fucking what?” Michael said, putting himself on the defensive.

“None of us _knew_. That’s my fuckling problem.” Geoff said, feeling more irritated than angry. “There’s a guy who want to fucking _kill_ us, Michael, and you left the apartment, drunk and alone to go drive somewhere. What if you crashed?! What if he got to you before Ryan did?” His voice cracked and he abandoned his attempt at keeping his voice down.

Michael’s angry expression softened slightly when he realised why Geoff was so worked up by it.

“But I didn’t get got.” Michael said gently. “I’m still here.”

“Yeah well, next time just make sure someone knows where you are.” Geoff snapped.

“Got it, Geoff.” Michael promised. “I’m going to go to bed.”

“Yeah, go get some sleep.” Geoff said. He waited until Michael had gone down the hallway to his bedroom (he blocked out the memory of Gavin entering the same room earlier that evening) before he went to the kitchen and pulled down a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. It was on the cheap side but it would do the job.

Geoff grabbed a glass and poured himself way too much alcohol. He heard very soft footsteps and felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and watched Jack slide onto the seat next to him.

“Pour me one?” She said, tucking some stray hairs behind her ear. Geoff just passed Jack his mostly full glass and reached up for his own. “Couldn’t sleep?” Jack asked, sipping the Jack Daniel’s from the glass.

“Woke up when Michael came in.” Geoff said, pouring himself a _lot_ of alcohol and barely hesitating to down it. Jack raised her eyebrows at Geoff’s small display and his shoulders immediately hunched forwards. “Nightmare.” He said quietly.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” Geoff said quietly, pouring himself some more booze.

“Wanna get drunk and crash out?” Jack suggested, reaching over for the bottle.

“Yup.” Geoff felt himself smile as Jack downed the contents of the glass. She grinned at him and held out the bottle in a small challenge.

It was strange, the small moments when Geoff felt his heart ache with how much he loved the bruised girl beside him.

***

“Okay, Gav. I think that’s enough for one day.” Jack said, her voice unshakable even as she gripped the door so tightly her knuckles were white. Gavin looked just as thankful to exit the vehicle and almost fell over himself to leave.

Geoff and Michael were both lying on plastic lawn chairs in the garage with drinks in their hands, watching them as they walked up to the exit. It was a smug gesture and Geoff was so glad he wasn’t the one who had thought it up and be able to take the blame. (If Jack asked, he would say it was all Ray’s idea).  

“So how’d it go?” Michael asked, a cheeky smile on his face as he pushed a pair of sunglasses up on his face. Those sunglasses weren’t necessary in the slightest, but it worked with the lawn chairs and was _just_ over the line of being a little shit, so Geoff liked it.

“Not bad.” Jack admitted, taking in the scene with a world-wary look. Gavin barely looked at them as he stalked over to the lift that would take him to the apartment. The doors closed behind him and Jack’s shoulders sagged.

Geoff sat up on his chair, putting his drink down. Something was wrong.

“Hey Michael, can you do a booze run?” Geoff reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple bills. He didn’t seem to care that he had pulled out a couple hundred dollars, but Geoff just pressed it into Michael’s hand.

“Er, sure?” Michael looked down at the money in confusion.

“Just get anything that can get us drunk. Oh, and get Ryan some more diet coke. Fucker burns through it.” Geoff said, silently dismissing Michael. He waited until Michael had driven off before he said anything.

“What happened?” Geoff asked, turning to Jack with a worried look. If anything, he had expected Jack to come back frustrated, not weary.

“He had a panic attack behind the wheel.” Jack said, keeping her voice down. “He started to get the hang of it, so I let him drive down the highway for a while, but a dog or something ran across the road in front of us and Gavin just… I don't know what happened. One second he was fine, the next I had to grab the wheel and pull us over. It took him ten minutes to calm down. He refused to drive after that. Whatever triggered that panic attack, it must have been _really_ bad.”

Geoff couldn’t bring any words to mind. He didn’t have anything to say.

“Look, Geoff. I’m going to take a nap. Can you talk to Gavin for me? He didn’t say anything on the drive back.” Jack sounded tired, and Geoff could only wonder what she was thinking.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll go talk to him.” Geoff promised.

They made their way up to the apartment in silence. The only contact between them was when Jack took Geoff’s hand, gripping it tightly. She was withdrawn and Geoff knew that if they were any other two people; if they had any other life, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. But in their line of work…

He didn’t know what to do.

 

Geoff knocked on Gavin’s door tentatively. He barely heard someone shifting on the other side of the door and Geoff gently stepped inside.

The room was dark: the main light was off and the curtains were closed, but Geoff could still see the decorations fairly well. Old video game posters were hung strategically on the walls and a few game consoles were set up underneath a large TV mounted on the wall. The furniture itself was probably more expensive and fancier than Gavin needed, but Geoff knew that the boy’s taste was touched with gold. No, he wasn’t a boy anymore. No matter how much he acted like it.

That young and scared seventeen year old was long gone, replaced with this young man who was only a few years away from having the world bowing at his feet, just like his guardians.

“Hey buddy.” Geoff said quietly.

“Bugger off, Geoff.” Gavin’s muffled voice said from beneath his sheets.

“Jack told me about what happened.” Geoff padded towards Gavin’s bed and perched just beside the Gavin-sized lump. He made sure that there was a bit of space between them and didn’t reach out towards the Brit; not just yet, at least. “You don’t have to drive anymore.”

Gavin let out a sigh and sat up, pulling the covers off. His hair was even more of a mess than usual, but his eyes were a bit puffy and it looked like his cheeks had gone a bit red. Even in the dark room, Geoff could see that much. He didn’t bring it up.

“It’s not that, Geoff.” Gavin said, not looking Geoff in the eye. “Do you remember the first night I stayed with you and Jack? About how I tried to leave?”

“Yeah. You got into a wreck.”

“Yeah… Well before we crashed, there was something on the road.” Gavin said slowly. “I never got a good look at it, but it was the thing that made us crash. And when the dog ran out in front of the car… I thought I saw it again. I lost control of the wheel. Geoff, I almost _killed_ us.”

“Whoa, slow down Gavvy.”  Geoff said gently, reaching out towards Gavin. “It’s okay. Nothing happened to you or Jack. You’re both safe, I promise.” He pulled Gavin into his embrace and held him tightly. Gavin buried his face into Geoff’s shoulder and tried his best to even out his breathing.

“Geoff? What’s it like remembering everything? From before.” Gavin asked, his hands weakly holding on to Geoff’s sleeves. “I thought you all were messing with me at first. But I saw you, Geoff. As who you were before. Why do I get like, little flashes of my memories when there’s no way to actually get them back?”

“I don’t know,” Geoff admitted, dipping his head to rest his cheek on Gavin’s head. “I don’t know, Gavin. But we’ll get your memories back. I promise.”

“We _can’t_ Geoff. That prick’s the one who wronged me. I’d have to kill Kerry myself to get my memories back, and that’s practically impossible.” Gavin said. “ _God_ , sometimes I wish I never left England.”

“Then we wouldn’t have met, Gavvers.” Geoff said gently. “You wouldn’t have met Jack, and we wouldn’t have adopted you, and you wouldn’t be banging Michael.”

“You knew about that?” Gavin asked, a hint of shame in his voice.

“I do now.” Geoff admitted, shocking a very small laugh out of Gavin. “I don’t care what you get up to, just for fucks sake, be _safe_. Last thing we need to worry about is weird dick diseases.”

Gavin did let out a small laugh at that and Geoff held him a bit tighter.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Gavin. I promise. We’re a family. I know we joke about it, but you, me and Jack… We started this Crew together. That first day when Jack brought you home… When I found you that night, I didn’t want you to leave. I think we both loved you after about a week.” Geoff said softly. “You’re important, and don’t let that freak ever make you feel differently. We love you, Gav.”

A very soft sniff seemed to echo in the dark room and Geoff never brought up the damp feeling on his shirt. Very softly, Geoff rubbed small circles on Gavin’s back, soothing him like he wished his foster parents could have when he was young and vulnerable.

Geoff remembered all the nights he held his sibling-by-law’s in the dead of night. He remembered learning how to cover his bruises and throwing himself in front of the other children in the house to take the hits. He remembered telling himself every night that he would never get a girl pregnant or have his own kid. He couldn't risk it if this was what life could be like. He remembered keeping himself up at night with the words ‘ _what if I turn out like them?_ ’ ricocheting around his skull.

Geoff felt those memories come flooding back as he held his ward in his arms and let him cry out all his troubles. He recalled every moment he dreaded being a father; that one pregnancy scare with his second girlfriend; whispering his fears to Jack in the middle of the night; being uncomfortably aware of his habit of creating a family out of strays.

(But after that first meal with this skinny British kid in that shitty apartment, Geoff didn’t even feel bad about betraying his teenage self.)

He held Gavin until he felt the younger man’s breath even out. The sky outside was beginning to darken and Geoff couldn’t find it in him to disturb Gavin’s restful sleep, so, as gently as possible, he propped a few pillow up behind his back and resigned himself to his fate.

***

“Okay sit still, Ryan.”

“I _am_ still.”

“Stay more still.”

Ryan rolled his eyes in annoyance but did as Geoff said and found a spot on the opposite wall to focus on. He kept his body as unmoving as he could and tried not to react to the feeling of cold, wet paint on his skin.

“I still don't see why this is necessary.” Ryan muttered.

“It was your idea to test out these facepaint patterns, dickbag.” Geoff pointed out, running the brush carefully along his cheekbones and lining out where the different coloured would go. “Too many people recognise you with the mask on and you don't like going out barefaced. That and you turned down the idea of a different mask.”

“Branding, Geoff.” Was all Ryan could think of as a retort. Geoff just smirked and carried on. Ryan seemed a bit lost in his own thoughts and suddenly frowned, his attention shifting so he looked Geoff in the eyes.

“What?” Geoff asked, putting down one brush and picking up a thicker one to fill in some areas. His suit jacket had been long since abandoned and Geoff had rolled the sleeves back up to his elbows to save them getting stained from the paints. Ryan had insisted that Geoff wore gloves as he worked and Geoff had agreed just so that Ryan would stop bitching about it.

“Nothing.” Ryan lied, blinking a few times and refocusing.

“Are you sure about that?” Geoff had specially trained himself to spot a lie from a dozen paces; so being a few inches from Ryan’s face made the lie so much more obvious. Ryan frowned at Geoff’s ‘ _negotiation_ ’ voice. Geoff suddenly realised that maybe Ryan had never heard it. Or at least heard it directed at _him_.

“Why did you offer to do the facepaint?” Ryan asked, curious. There was a strange sheen to Ryan’s eyes that Geoff had never been close enough to notice. They were _blue_ … but not a _human_ kind of blue. Too… luminescent; too… bright. Geoff couldn’t look him in the eye and couldn’t look away at the same time.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Geoff asked, testing out another brush’s stroke on the back of his hand. He tore his eyes away from Ryan’s and began with some of the finer details. He forced himself to focus on the paint and how he applied it, keeping his mind on the task at hand.

“I don’t understand.” Ryan admitted, tilting his head slightly to the side only for Geoff to force it back into position.

“Who do you think taught Jack and Gavin how to cover bruises? Or taught them how to do makeup?” Geoff asked, a small smile on his face that was almost covered by the moustache.

“Huh. I never thought about it.” Ryan said, looking down slightly with a faraway look in his eye. “It makes sense I guess.”

“I’d teach Michael and Ray as well, but something tells me that they’d turn me down.” Geoff admitted. He saw the questioning look on Ryan’s face and tilted Ryan’s head away from him to that he could fill in the black paint on his cheek. “Ray doesn’t get hit and Michael wears bruises like medals.”

Ryan nodded, like suddenly everything made sense. He always had that sense of _other_ about him. Like he was part of the Human world but never quite there. Like some part of him was constantly stuck in the world that Geoff could only see in his dreams.

“Geoff? Do you guys talk... about what happened when Kerry attacked you guys?” Ryan asked. Geoff was quiet for a moment, moving Ryan’s head when he needed to. Ryan stayed strangely still under Geoff’s palms.

“Jack told me about hers in detail. And she saw what mine was. We all know what that prick did to Gavin, and Michael told me all about his when we got drunk together a few days afterwards. Poor kid seemed really beat up about it. Ray… Hasn’t told me anything. I’m pretty sure he’s talked to Michael, but as far as I know that’s the only person he’s talked to.” Geoff admitted, speaking lowly as he methodically detailed Ryan’s face.

“You know Geoff…” Ryan began, but Geoff cut him off.

“Rye? I’ve been meaning to ask you something buddy.” Geoff said, pushing back Ryan’s hair to fill in the paint around his hairline. “The first time I ever heard of you was when Jack told me about a guy who told her to run so she wouldn’t get shot in her own house. Did you ever check up on the rest of us?”

“In a way.” Ryan said honestly. “Your Watchers mostly kept me informed about how you were, but if it was something major then I would be there.”

“Oh. Alright.” Geoff said, quietly. He switched the brush again and filled in the red triangle on Ryan’s nose carefully, taking the curves into account. The silence between them grew uncomfortable as Geoff mentally threw himself into the task at hand. Ryan’s eyes kept glancing over Geoff’s face, _almost_ frowning in thought.

“Geoff,” Ryan said, gently taking Geoff’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. Geoff still refused to meet his eye again, but didn’t protest. “I know what your parents did to you. And I’m sorry that I waited so long to give you a Watcher.” Ryan’s words struck something deep inside Geoff’s chest and he felt himself meeting those alien blue eyes.

“Ryan-”

“At that point in your lives, it was just you and Jack. By the time _they_ started, I still didn’t want you to know that I existed, so I did all that I could in little ways. Teachers forgetting to ask for homework that you hadn’t done, bullies conveniently getting held up before they could get to you, your parents’ car breaking down on their way home so you and your siblings were asleep by the time they got there. Looking back, it wasn’t anywhere near enough. I’m sorry, Geoff.”

Geoff could only nod. That apology was nothing like he could have expected. He couldn’t from the proper words to even think up a response.

Geoff picked up the brush again and carried on, still mulling over what Ryan had said to him. Ryan seemed to be placated and allowed Geoff to silently carry out the design he had detailed when the matter of his identity was brought up.

“When did you know I existed?” Geoff asked, breaking the silence. His voice sounded too loud in the silent bathroom.

“Just before you decided to run away.” Ryan said. Geoff knew it was the truth. “Something about you seemed to… Shout out to me. Like the _old_ part of you was waking up and desperately tried to find me.”

“When did you know about Jack?”

“The day before you met her. That old part of her had awoken somehow. I’m still not sure _how_ or _why_.”

“Did you make me meet Jack at that park?”

“Yes.”

Geoff nodded solemnly.

“I’m glad you did.” He admitted.

“It made you more vulnerable.” Ryan said quietly. “When you five met each other, it was easier for Kerry to find you.” Geoff let out a small laugh.

“I think Jack’s saved me more times than Kerry could ever have killed me.” Geoff said, gently painting three lines across Ryan’s lips as a finishing touch. “There we go. Take a look, buddy.” Geoff pulled up a mirror and handed it to Ryan.

He was pretty proud of his work. It looked menacing enough to replace the mask, and it served enough of a resemblance to a skull that Ryan seemed to approve of it. Geoff watched him admire it from various angles and felt his chest swell with pride.

“Like it?” Geoff asked, beginning to clean up the mess of paints and brushes around them. Red and black paint was streaked down the back of his hand and Geoff quickly scrubbed it off under the cold tap.

“I really like it.” Ryan said to Geoff’s back. Geoff turned around in time to see Ryan pulling a comically scary face in the mirror but pretended he hadn’t noticed when Ryan placed the mirror down shyly.

“Good. Now let me just set it.” Geoff said, grabbing a small pot from the medicine cabinet shelf. It was cosplay concealer that Geoff had bought a while ago when he had stumbled across it when looking for something that would hold up against water. The reviews had looked pretty good so he’d ordered a couple pots. (Strangely enough, it had actually turned out to be incredibly useful for Jack on a job when she had to cover up bruises and tattoos.)

Geoff dusted the powder over Ryan’s face with obvious ease that came from several years of practice. Ryan’s eyes were closed and he seemed so strangely relaxed it was almost distracting. He looked less like he was comfortable and more like he was making his muscles go lax so an impact wouldn’t hurt as much.

“There. All done.” Geoff finally said, stepping back and screwing the lid of the pot back on.

Everything in Geoff just wanted to leave the bathroom already and go sit in his room, alone for a while, but he realised with a sinking feeling that the whole reason he had agreed to do Ryan’s face paint was because they had a meeting to set up another heist, and Ryan had agreed to go with him.

“Geoff,” Ryan said, catching Geoff’s wrist. Geoff forced himself to meet Ryan’s eye, placing the pot back on the shelf with the other hand.

“Yes, Ryan?”

“Thank you. For _this_.” Ryan said, more sincerely than Geoff had ever heard from him. “And thank you for keeping Jack and Gavin safe when I couldn’t.”

“Hey, we’re a Crew. That’s what we do.” Geoff said, his voice mellow for some reason he couldn’t place. The silent moment between them seemed to heal the ache in Geoff’s chest that he hadn’t been aware he was carrying. “Come on, we’ve got that meeting to get to.”

***

Geoff sat at that desk in the middle of that warehouse and rested his feet on the old wood, leaning back like he hadn’t a care in the world. He saw Ryan look around the warehouse curiously, obviously wondering why _this_ of all places was where Geoff conducted his illicit business.

Suddenly, the far doors were thrown open and Geoff lazily looked towards the two men that strode up to him. Geoff didn’t take his feet off the desk; these guys weren’t important enough to warrant his feet on the floor.

“What do you want?” The man on the left asked, his voice gruff from cigarettes, if the smell around him was anything to go from.

“A deal.” Geoff said, as confidently as he always pretended he was. There was no gun on the desk and Geoff saw the men’s gaze shift to Ryan.

“He takes off the mask first.” The man on the right said, nodding towards Ryan. He sounded younger, but maybe that was the clean lungs talking.

“Vagabond.” Geoff didn’t even look at Ryan as he said it, but he heard the small ‘ _pop_ ’ of the fastener and saw Ryan place the mask gently on the desk beside Geoff’s feet. Geoff  smirked at the reaction. So the face paint _was_ as effective as he’d hoped.

“ _Dude, that’s the Vagabond, holy shit_.” The man on the right hissed to his partner. Maybe Ryan’s reputation had reached further than they thought.

“What’s the deal?” The man on the left said, sounding braver than the slight tremor in his hand.

“You’ve been creeping into our territory.” Geoff said slowly. “You’ve got a small ring going, but it’s enough to get my attention. You’re good at what you do. We can offer you resources and connections that you could have only dreamed of.”

Geoff reached down into a drawer and pulled out a brown envelope. He threw it on the desk and waited for one of the men to take it.

“Work for my Crew, and we’ll give you your own part of city.” Geoff said, watching the man on the right come forwards and pick up the envelope. “Only rules: no selling near schools or to children, and if you try and cut our drugs with something to make it last, you end up on the other end of my friend’s knife.”

A car pulled up outside and the man on the left pulled out a gun from somewhere, aiming it straight at Geoff.

“Who the fuck is that?!”  The man on the left demanded, cocking the gun in a way that was obviously supposed to be dangerous, but only made Geoff smile.

“My business partner.” Geoff said, looking past the man to the new arrival.

Jack walked into the warehouse like she was walking out of a lawsuit she just won. It was part pride and part fake arrogance but it wasn’t even undermined by the obnoxious shirt she always wore. (No matter how many times Geoff had tried to hate it, something about the charm of it just made it stick). Somehow, the walk was even more impressive by the fact she was looking down at her phone the entire time.  

The man on the right pulled out a gun and aimed it at Jack. Jack barely looked at them as she walked between the two men to go sit on Geoff’s desk. She gently nudged Geoff’s feet and he pulled them off, sitting up properly. Her injuries were masked perfectly by makeup and Geoff felt a small spark of pride.

“We got anything to drink?” Jack asked absently, scrolling down her phone as she crossed one leg over the other. Geoff reached for the drawer again but Ryan was quicker and pulled a flask out of his jacket pocket, handing it over to Jack, who barely nodded her thanks at him.

The men were speechless at what just happened. Geoff looked back at them, knowing that he’d won.

“So, what’s the answer?”

“Give us time to think about it.” The man on the left said instantly. Geoff smirked like he’d always been expecting that answer.

“What’s there to think about?” Geoff asked, leaning forwards on the desk and resting his mouth behind his laced fingers. “You get all the benefits of being in my network without the worry of the Vagabond or Jonesy coming after you when you step into our turf.”

“What do you get out of it?” The man on the right asked.

“One less thing to worry about.” Geoff replied smoothly. “You get to keep selling on your current turf, and you get a neat little pocket of the Crew’s turf as well. Regular supply and customers. But, the catch is we get to use your guys if we need to.”

“Use them how?” The man on the right said.

“If we need a distraction for a job, or an alibi. Maybe something might happen to another ring of ours and we need to reorganise our people. It’s not too much to ask for.” Geoff said, keeping his voice even and open. If there was one thing he was _excellent_ at, it was spinning things in a positive light. If he could spot a liar, he could damn well be a convincing one himself.

“What if we had a better offer?” The man on the left said, a small glint in his eye that Geoff didn’t like.

“From who?”

“Dragonface.”

It felt like the room dropped several degrees but Geoff kept his expression collected. He sensed Jack’s almost imperceptible wince and forced himself to _focus, damnit!_

“ _That_ little punk gave you an offer?” Geoff said, letting out a laugh at how absurd the idea was. “You know he was playing you, right? He’s got no power in Los Santos.”

His laugh was low and cut through the air like a danger sign. Any humour in that laugh was purely imaginary.

“He’s gaining people.” The man on the left said, his voice growing more excited, toeing the line of disrespect. “He’s getting a Crew together, and he says he’s coming after you, Ramsey. You and your whole Crew. He says not even Vagabond can keep you sa-”

Twin gunshots deafened the room and the man on the left fell backwards to the floor with a sickening thud. Two ribbons of blood traced back the bullet holes in the man’s forehead. A pool of blood slowly spread out under the man’s head, painting him with a gory halo in a sick mockery of what he was now.

Ryan and Jack carefully tucked their concealed guns away and carried on like nothing had happened; Jack continued scrolling on her phone, Ryan continued staring down the remaining man.

Geoff just smiled.

Light, humourless, predatory.

“So do we have a deal?” Geoff stood up from his chair and extended his hand to the remaining man.

The remaining man nodded quickly and shook Geoff’s hand. He could feel the sweat on the other’s palm and resisted the urge to wipe it on his suit. Flecks of blood freckled the left side of the man’s face and smeared down his cheek when he tried to wipe them away.

“Good. I’ll call you with the rest of the details tomorrow.” Geoff said, his silent signal that the man was dismissed. “Nice doing business with you.” He said to the retreating back of the newest member of his network.  

The three of them waited until they heard the car’s engine fade into the distance before saying a word.

“Ryan, what the hell was in this flask? It tastes like shit.” Jack broke the silence, placing the closed flask on the desk and closing her phone.

“It isn’t even mine. I borrowed Michael’s for this.” Ryan explained, pulling his mask back on and closing it with a firm ‘ _pop_ ’.

“Great. I _think_ I just drank gasoline.” Jack said, hopping off the desk and digging around the drawers for one of Geoff’s flask. Ryan picked up the ‘ _borrowed_ ’ one and tucked it back into his pocket.

“Well, that went better than expected.” Geoff admitted, watching Jack take a long drink of the whiskey he kept.

“What did you expect to happen?” Ryan asked, genuinely curious.

“I expected there to be two bodies on my floor right now.” Geoff said, taking the flask that Jack offered him.

***

The world outside the window was dark by the time Geoff fell into bed. He let out a soft sigh and Jack’s hand rested on his chest lightly. He watched her dogear the page of her book and slid down the bed so they were eye-level.

“We’ll get through it, Geoff.” Jack promised, letting Geoff take her hand and twist their fingers together.

“What do you mean, Jack?” Geoff asked, frowning slightly at her. Jack’s expression softened and she looked endeared.  

“Come here.” Jack pulled Geoff closer and he wrapped his arms around Jack’s waist. He rested his head on her arm, feeling safe. “We’re going to be alright. All of us are.”

“I just want this to be behind us already.” Geoff admitted, closing his eyes as he felt Jack’s hands gently stroke his back. “I want to be able to fall asleep without thinking we’re going to be attacked.”

Jack pulled her head back a little and pressed a gentle kiss to Geoff’s mouth. It was innocent and loving and soothing on Geoff’s stressed mind. Her hand settled on his hip and Geoff could _feel_ Jack’s intensity grow. Her touch grew more insistent, her breath grew sharper, and Geoff couldn’t help himself get more and more caught up in it.

He let his hands travel and they shyly dipped under her night shirt, stroking the soft and scarred skin of her back. The soft breath that escape Jack had a… _indecent_ reaction from Geoff and he felt his face flush when he heard Jack laugh.

She didn’t say anything, though (much to Geoff’s relief). Jack’s hands found Geoff’s shoulders and pressed them to the mattress. He let his hands support Jack as she shifted to lay on top of him. Her hands pulled at his shirt, pulling it up over his head; going back and feeling his stomach, his hips, his scars, his tattoos, his shoulders, his everything. Geoff held the hem of her shirt, looking her in the eye, asking for her permission.

Jack sat up and pulled her shirt up and off, throwing it lazily to the side, disregarding wherever it fell. Small scars and the tendrils of tattoos that were usually hidden by makeup or fabric suddenly saw the light and Geoff knew that so few people were allowed to see Jack this vulnerable. The pocket of fat on her stomach hung over her pyjama bottoms and Geoff could feel himself falling even _harder_ for the woman over him.

(It amazed him that it took him so long to realise Jack was royalty in their past life when the evidence was clear as day).

Geoff closed his eyes and let himself get lost. It was so rare for him to feel like that, and he rarely knew someone who _could_ make him feel so safe and so vulnerable at once. He loved it. He _craved_ that feeling.

Something cold pierced his chest and Geoff’s eyes snapped open.

It felt so cold.

So sharp.

And the _pain_.

Geoff couldn’t breathe. Iit felt like his torso was being torn in two. His eyes snapped to the dagger sticking out from his stomach, and then to the roughened but painted nails holding it.

“ _J-Jack-_ ” It hurt to talk or to draw a breath or to move or-

Jack’s gaze was blank. No sadness or remorse or even anger or hatred. Nothing. Not a _damn_ thing in Jack’s eyes.

 **_I  w i l l  t a k e  t h e m  f r o m  y o u. E v e r y o n e  y o u  l o v e  w i l l  b e c o m e  m i n e. I’ l l  s t a r t  w i t h_ ** **h e r** ** _._ **

Jack moved like a puppet as she pulled out the dagger from Geoff’s torso and turned it so the tip was over her own exposed stomach. He couldn’t move. Something _forced_ Geoff to watch as Jack carved the ancient script that haunted Geoff into her skin. Small gasps and hisses were the only thing reminding Geoff that Jack was still alive and that she was feeling _pain_. Jack finished the last word and held the dagger loosely in her grip, letting the thin trails of blood run down and soak into her pyjamas.

Tears stained her face as whispers filled the room. Geoff tried to listen to them, to comprehend what the whispers were saying. Fresh tears rolled down Jack’s face and she slowly raised her hand. The tip of the dagger rested over the dip in her neck and Geoff did everything in his power to _not watch_.

He had to.

Jack forced the dagger into her throat.

The strings holding her up were suddenly cut and Jack fell forwards towards Geoff again. He closed his eyes, his face already wet, and waited to feel the impact of Jack’s body.

Geoff lurched forwards and suddenly saw his bedroom wall opposite him. He could feel his bed sheets restraining him and felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Geoff? _Jesus_ , man. You scared the shit out of me.” Jack’s voice was gentle and Geoff finally turned to look at her. It took him a moment to register the lack of a puncture wound in her throat, but he could still see all the bruises from the few days before.

Her injuries seemed worse somehow in the dark room around them but everything about her body language and her expression was soft and gentle.  Geoff’s face felt wet and he could only imagine what Jack was thinking.

“Wh-” Geoff’s voice cracked but he powered on. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know. You just started crying in your sleep, then you started talking and you just started screaming.” Jack said gently, wiping Geoff’s face with the pad of her thumb. He reached up and held her hand, bringing Jack closer to him. He needed to feel someone else’s presence, he needed to know that she was _alive_. That she was herself and unharmed and _present._

“I’m sorry,” Geoff mumbled.

“What were you dreaming about?” Jack asked gently, feeling Geoff link their fingers together.

“It was a nightmare.” Geoff said. “I couldn’t move… I had to watch- Jack, you died.”

“ _Geoff_.” Jack whispered, pulling away to look at him properly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was so _real_ , Jack. It- it was like I was _remembering_ it.” Geoff said, feeling tears in his eyes again. Jack looked like she was about to say something when there was a light knock at their door.

“Yeah?” Jack called, knowing that Geoff wasn’t really in any state to be his professional self.

“Jack?” Ray’s head peered around the door. He looked about as nervous as he was capable of and Geoff felt his worry come back.

“What’s up, Ray?” Jack asked.

“There’s… someone here for you.” Ray said, sounding more unsure than nervous. “She said she really needed to talk to you.”

“Did she give you a name?” Jack asked, pulling away the sheets to get ready to stand up.

“Er… She called herself Ruby.” Ray said.

Geoff glanced at Jack as she looked back at him and they _knew_. They didn’t say a word as the both of them clambered out of their shared bed. Ray ducked out of the room and lead the way, barely waiting for them to follow. Geoff reached out and took Jack’s hand as they walked. Jack squeezed his hand just enough to reassure him.

They burst into the bright lights of the living room and Geoff saw Ryan stood with a gun in his hand, facing one person who stood just inside the door. The tension in his shoulders was obvious.

Jack walked in front of Geoff towards the newcomer but he quickly caught up, looking at the person with a look of relief and confusion on his face.

They stopped a few steps away from the other person and a tense silence seemed to stretch between them. The first person to move was Jack, who gently detangled her hand from Geoff’s. A few more seconds passed by before the tension was broken by Jack and Geoff pulling the newcomer into a tight embrace.

“Good to see you, kid.” Geoff said when they all finally stepped away.

“Good to see you too, Geoff. How’s the business? I’ve finally started seeing your name in the paper.” Lindsay said, tucking her hands into her pockets. She wore a shirt with some superhero outfit printed onto it, plain jeans and a large leather jacket over the top of it; a strange juxtaposition that seemed to fit the fiery, now twenty-six year old.

“We’re getting there. Pretty soon we’re going to have wanted posters of our faces.” Jack said, a proud smile on her face. “How’ve you been? How’s your Crew?”

“We’re good.” Lindsay said, showing the same kind of proud smile.

Geoff saw Lindsay’s eyes slid past him and he turned. Michael and Gavin stood behind Ray now, and it took a few more seconds for Gavin to properly wake up.

“Holy shit, _Gavin_?” Lindsay asked, snagging the Brits attention.

“Lindsay!” Gavin’s voice was sleepy but his enthusiasm was clear as he practically leapt at Lindsay, who caught the lad easily. They hugged like siblings who hadn’t seen each other in _years_ and Geoff caught see the bewildered look on the other’s faces.

Lindsay put Gavin down haphazardly and the dramatic hug was made funnier when it became clear that Gavin was a good few inches taller than her.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” Gavin said, all traces of sleep gone now. “Oh, you haven’t even met the others. Linds, this is Michael, Ray and Ryan: the rest of our Crew now.”

“I wondered how you guys were pulling off bigger jobs.” Lindsay said, smiling at the others politely.

“What brings you here? Need some heavier firepower?” Geoff asked, already dreading the answer. If it was something as trivial as guns or explosives, she wouldn’t have turned up in the middle of the night. No… This was something _much_ worse.

Lindsay’s expression turned grave and she beckoned Jack closer slightly.

Geoff heard the words ‘ _marks_ ’ and ‘ _cut_ ’ but it was enough for him to feel sick.

“Show me.” Jack said softly. She shot Geoff a look and he nodded.

“Boys, go back to your rooms.” Geoff practically ordered. “We’ve got it from here.”

“Fuck that! Who the fuck _is_ she?!” Michael exploded, _despising_ being out of any loop.

“I’ll explain everything later-” Geoff began.

“Geoff, it’s okay.” Lindsay said, reaching a hand out towards him. He immediately stopped and turned to face her again.

Lindsay seemed to take a second to compose herself before she shrugged off her jacket and pulled up her shirt to just under her cleavage. Even before she had exposed her entire torso, Geoff could see red markings, probably in the shapes of words, running like a scripture down her front. They looked fresh and a few of the words over her ribs looked like they might still bleed.

His nightmare hit him hard and fast in that moment and Geoff couldn’t breathe.

“ _Bloody hell_.” Gavin breathed, taking a half-step backwards. He _knew_ Lindsay - Geoff had introduced them a couple months after Gavin officially started living with them - so Geoff knew Gavin was as horrified as he was.

“What does it say?” Ray asked, looking like curiosity _might_ have taken over if the circumstances were different.

Ryan stepped forwards and began reading the lines of text. His hand reached out to trace the lines but his fingers never made contact with Lindsay’s skin. Everyone in the apartment was silent and Lindsay barely moved.

Or maybe that was just how Geoff perceived it to be.

It seemed like forever before Ryan straightened up.

“It’s a warning.” He said. His voice sounded different. _Older,_ somehow.

“A warning?” Jack repeated, using her body as a shield from the other men as Lindsay righted her clothes.

“Yes. It says that all Second Lives must beware. That the Mask will make sure they don’t get a third. That’s the gist of it, at least.” Ryan said. He sounded strangely detached and Geoff saw Ray slyly put his hand to Ryan’s back as a silent comfort.

“So it’s a threat?” Michael said. “This Mask fucker just threatened us.”

“Not just us.” Ray muttered, looking up at Geoff, who just gave an imperceptible nod.  

“Wait, there are more people like us?” Gavin asked. All at once, Geoff remembered that Gavin still had no idea about who he _was_. Who any of them were, _before_.

“Yeah, Gavvy. There are a few more of us.” Geoff said, running a hand over his short hair in frustration. “And now they’re in just as much danger as we are.”

***

_“Are you sure about this?”_

_“After all this,_ now _you’re doubting me?”_

 _“I just think this is a little_ extreme _, Kerry. This… It’s a bit creepy.”_

_“Moon, don’t worry about it.”_

_“Kerry-”_

_“You’re part of this, now. And don’t worry about the Fakes. They won’t be a problem anymore.”_

_“But-”_

_“Do you trust me, Moon?”_

_“................”_

_“............... ”_

_“_ Yes _."_

_“Good.”_


	2. G.F - The Prodigy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyyyy so my exams are over and I promised myself I'd upload the next chapter then. Chapter 3 is partially written but I haven't been working on it much. Hopefully that'll change and I'll get the next chapter up in a timely manner. 
> 
> warnings (kind of in order, from about half way through): drugs/being drugged, allusions to infidelity, coercion, drug addiction, slight suicidal thoughts

_“Any words of wisdom Hullum?” Ryan asked, looking at the immortal man next to him. The landscape stretched out endlessly before them and they just existed together._

_“Keep an eye on the Lads.” The Pseudo-God said, not turning to look at Ryan as he spoke. “They’re important, if you want some answers.”_

_“Answers? I wasn’t aware there were still some questions.” Ryan said, frowning at Hullum._

_“How much do you even know about Dragonface in this life? What are his motives?_ Why _is he doing this to people he hasn’t known for a thousand years?” Hullum said, sounding as old as his years._

_“He’s angry. He’s still angry about the war and losing. And he knows the prophecy.” Ryan said. Hullum finally looked at Ryan, surprise etched into his features._

_“The prophecy? You know it?”_

_“_ _The six will rise to be like kings again after all the years/ and the Old King's vengeance will be their freedom and their death./ They will find one another in new skins, but when the mind clears/ the New Kings and Queen will be united to mourn once again.” Ryan recited, the words practically_ burned _into his memory._

_Hullum was very quiet as he thought for a very long time. A low flying plane caught Ryan’s attention and he looked back out over the city. Suddenly, he thought of Jack._

_“The prophet is tricky. Remember that.” Hullum said quietly._

_Ryan glanced beside him and wasn’t even surprised when he saw the empty space beside him._

_“Well thanks for_ that _._ Really _cleared it up for me.”_

***

Gavin woke up softly and stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam that made it through his curtains. He turned his head to the side and felt slightly disappointed when he saw the empty bed.

Every room Gavin had called his own always seemed to follow the pattern of deliberate chaos with a gold lining. It drove Geoff _mad_ (and was starting to grate on Michael’s nerves as well, especially when he would trip over some random cable connected to who-knows-where). Clothes were strewn about in self contained piles; books, pieces of paper, random artifacts were dotted about like they had been put down and never picked up again; shoes without partners hugged the walls or stood proudly in the open, ready to trip any unsuspecting victim; new video games in uneven piles with all the disks in different cases. But it was how Gavin liked it, so it stuck.

The clock on his (overly expensive) phone told him it was still early, but Gavin knew that he had to do something to keep himself awake. And by _something_ , he obviously meant RedBull.

Gavin barely pulled on clothes before he left his room, only covering himself up because the of their unexpected houseguest who had appeared in the middle of last night.

Speaking of which…

Gavin saw Lindsay sat cross-legged on the sofa in the living room, a laptop on balanced on her knees and typing away furiously. Her hair was pulled back in a messy and loose bun, just so it was out of her face.    

“Morning Linds.” Gavin said, walking to the fridge and pulling out an energy drink.

“Morning Gavvers.” Lindsay said, not looking away from the screen as she continued typing. Gavin smiled as he cracked open the can, going and jumping over the back of the sofa onto the cushion beside Lindsay. He nearly spilt the drink on both of them as he did so but Lindsay wordlessly lifted the laptop out of harm’s way and waited until Gavin was fully settled before going back to whatever she was doing. She tossed him the remote for the large, flat screen TV Geoff had mounted on the wall. Amazingly, Gavin caught the remote with minimal effort and turned the TV on, switching to a news channel.

The main headline was about a plane that had been delayed in France because of a flight attendant that ‘ _accidentally_ ’ deployed the emergency slide.

Slow news day…

Gavin read the headlines that slowly traversed the bottom of the screen, skimming over all the other stories that took second place to the plane story. He smiled when he saw his Crew’s name crop up on a minor story.

“ _And in other news, the Los Santos Police Department has been investigating strange new graffiti that has cropped up all over the city. The graffiti placement has no immediately apparent pattern, as it has been sighted on banks to apartment buildings and even on the side of a hospital. Police have no current leads as to who is behind this, but are eager for people to come forwards with information._ ” The news broadcaster said, their voice blandly-enthusiastic as poor-quality images of various buildings from around the city popped up on screen.

Gavin almost dropped his drink when he read what the words were saying.

**_'THE PRINCE MUST DIE’_ **

“Lindsay, do you see this?” Gavin asked, tearing his eyes away to look at the person next to him.

“I’ve been seeing that all over the city.” Lindsay replied, finally leaning back from her laptop and looking at Gavin. He could see the stress in her eyes. It wasn’t as much as Geoff or Jack’s, (or even Ryan’s at times) but it was enough to set a few warning bells off in Gavin’s mind. “There was one on the side of my apartment building. It appeared the same day the thing on my chest did.”

“So it’s definitely a threat from Kerry.” Gavin muttered, turning back to the images on the screen.

“Kerry?” Lindsay repeated, catching his shoulder and forcing his attention on her. “You know who this is?”

“Yeah. We had a run in with him a few weeks ago.” Gavin said.

“Did you see his face?” Lindsay’s voice had a sense of urgency to it that pricked Gavin’s nerves.

“Yeah, I knew the guy when I was a teenager.” Gavin said. Lindsay grabbed her laptop and pulled up something. She showed Gavin the screen and Gavin could understand the urgency.

The image on the screen was blurry security footage that showed three figures. Two of them had hoods pulled up covering their hair and faces, but the figure in the middle didn’t. The quality of the footage was _awful_ , but Gavin could see the blonde hair clearly enough.

Lindsay pressed play and let a few seconds of footage roll. Gavin felt sick as the figure’s head turned to look directly at the camera, a twisted smile on it’s face. It’s eyes seemed to glow (a bit like a dog’s, Gavin realised with a start) as it looked deep into the camera.

“Do you recognise them?” Lindsay asked, both apprehensive and eager to know at once.

“Yup. That’s Kerry, the _wanker_.” Gavin spat out the last word with a surprising amount of venom. Lindsay looked surprised by the anger in his tone, but she didn’t bring it up.

“Gav, this footage was taken outside this building.”

***   

“Are you sure this can’t wait until morning?” Geoff murmured, ignoring Gavin’s insistent hand on his shoulder and Lindsay’s attempts at waking up Jack.

“It _is_ morning, Geoff.” Lindsay said, dropping her laptop onto the bed so she had both hands free.

“ _Later_ morning!” Geoff pulled a pillow over his head and Gavin could help his noise of frustration.

“But this is _important,_ Geoff.” Gavin _almost_ whined.

“Hey Geoff, remember when we thought having kids would be fun?” Jack teased, giving in to the younger woman’s pleas. She sat up, ignoring her messy hair or the fact that her shirt was falling off her shoulder and exposing the fact she didn’t sleep in a bra. “Okay, what is it?” Jack asked, punching Geoff’s arm through the sheets to make him pay attention.

Geoff groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes as he focused on the laptop screen.

“What am I looking at?” He asked, pulling at his mustache to sort it out.

“This is on the building outside, Geoff.” Lindsay said, playing the footage she had shown Gavin.

“They’ve been spraying ‘ _the prince must die_ ’ all over the city!” Gavin chipped in, hints of his agitation seeping into his words.

“And this is on our building right _now_?” Geoff asked as Jack pulled herself out of bed.

“Well the footage is from a few hours ago, so it should be.” Gavin said, watching as Jack quickly pulled a jacket on and grabbed a gun from her dresser drawer.

“I’m going to go check.” Jack announced, giving the gun a once over and tucking it in her pocket. “Do we still keep some spray paint in the Heist room?”

“By the door.” Gavin supplied.

“Great. I’ll be ten minutes, and I’m taking Ray with me.” Jack said, leaving the room without much fanfare. Geoff looked like he might have gone after her, but he only looked back to the laptop.

“Where else is this? You said all over the city.” Geoff’s voice was humourless and Gavin figured it was because Geoff had realised that the message seemed to be a (not so subtle) threat.

“I’ve been emailing my contacts. So far I’ve got a small list of places, but Geoff, they’re _our_ places.” Lindsay turned the laptop around and pulled up a map of the city she must have been working on. Small red dots were scattered around the map, with small tabs on them that probably brought up more information when clicked on. “This is everywhere in the city that the message has been sighted. And every point on that map is somewhere connected to your Crew.”

“How so?”

“There’s a tag on apartment buildings of your regular contacts, of your business partners, the bank you guys use, _my_ building, even the hospital that Caleb works at! They _know_.” Lindsay’s tone forced Geoff to meet her eye. She was serious. As in more serious than Gavin had ever seen her. “They know everything about you, Geoff. About your Crew. It’s no wonder they got in here!”

“Hang on, that’s a bit uncalled for-” Gavin interrupted, frowning at her.

“Gavin, enough.” Geoff cut him off, studying the map. “So Fuckface knows about everyone we work with?”

“Yes.” Lindsay said.

“And all these tags say ‘ _the prince must die_ ’?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” Geoff said decisively, throwing back the sheets and standing up. “Gavin, you’re not allowed to leave the apartment. Lindsay, go wake up the rest of the Crew. Tell them what’s happening and tell them we’ve got some people to pick up.”

“Wait a minute-” Gavin caught Geoff’s arm, his voice sounding much more aggressive than he meant to. “Geoff’s what’s going on? Why can’t I leave the apartment? What don’t I know?”

Geoff glanced at Lindsay like he was asking for advice or back up, but she just stared back in surprise.

“You never _told_ him?” Lindsay’s eyes were wide and critical as she stayed right where she was.

“Gav, you know how we were all Kings in our memories?” Geoff said hesitantly, after taking a few short breaths. He put his hands on Gavin’s shoulders in a paternal fashion and Gavin couldn’t help but feel his stomach plummet. Uneasiness encompassed him.

“Yeah...” Gavin frowned at him.

“Well, when we declared war on Kerry - he was Dragonface back then - but when we did that, you were still a prince.” Geoff said slowly. “And the reason _why_ we declared war… Dragonface killed your cousin. My nephew. Who was also a prince.”

Gavin was quiet for a moment, and Lindsay took this as her cue to leave. The room was deafeningly silent and Gavin still struggled to process all the information he’d just been given.

“So, that message… It could mean either of us?” Gavin asked. “Me or the guy who was my cousin?”  

“Yep. And I’d rather not find out which one.” Geoff said, his voice surprisingly caring.

“Wait, do we know what happened to that guy? Is he like us?” Gavin asked, his accent thickening for a moment.

“Yeah, buddy. That’s why we need to get him somewhere safe.”

“Wait, what’s his name? Do I know him?” Gavin asked, stopping Geoff when he tried to move towards the door.

“Lindsay said he’s called Jeremy.”

***

Gavin followed Geoff into the living room. Lindsay stood, talking in a low voice to Ryan, while Michael stood with a mug in his hand that probably had a bit more than coffee in it.

Geoff walked with the stature of a businessman and swept past the group  to grab a jacket off the hook by the door. He looked pensive but Gavin could see his worry.

“Michael, Lindsay, you’re coming with me.” Geoff said, talking as he readied himself to leave. “Ryan, I want you to stay here and make sure Gavin doesn’t try to leave. Jack and Ray should be back soon, so catch them up when they get here.”

“Got it, Boss.” Michael said, throwing back the contents of the mug and throwing Gavin a look that Gavin was sure no one else saw. He was worried.

“We’ll be back in about an hour.” Lindsay promised, following Geoff out of the apartment. Michael pulled a gun out of a hiding place in the kitchen and tucked it under his leather jacket, not looking behind him as he shut the door.

The apartment was creepily silent and Gavin watched as Ryan ran his hands down his face.

“Want a drink?” He asked, going to the bar that was Geoff’s pride and joy. Ryan pulled down a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses, filling them both up with alcohol.

“It’s ten in the morning.” Gavin pointed out, still going over and sitting on a stool.

“It’s been a rough morning.” Ryan said, holding out out of the shot glasses.

Gavin had to agree with him. He took the glass. Ryan picked up the second shot and they both downed them at the same time.

“I thought you didn’t drink.” Gavin said, the burn in his throat familiar from all the post-Heist celebrations over the years.

“I don’t.” Ryan pulled a face like he’d just tasted the worst thing in his entire life. It was pretty hilarious and Gavin couldn’t stop himself from laughing a little at this menacing man who’d been alive for centuries but couldn’t handle a shot of whiskey. “So you wanna explain why you’re under house arrest now?”

“You don’t know?”

“I want your version.” Ryan said, fixing him with a strange look. His eyes were weird and Gavin felt a little unnerved.

“Well me and Jeremy are in danger, aren’t we?” Gavin said, feeling himself falter under Ryan’s scrutiny.

“You’re in a gang. You’ve always been in danger.” Ryan pointed out. Gavin started to feel like he was in an interrogation again. That thought was oddly calming. He knew how to handle an interrogation. “What makes this different?”

“It just is.” Gavin said, falling into an old habit when it came to dodging questions. Something in Ryan deflated and it looked like he had realised how he sounded to Gavin.

“It’s Kerry, isn’t it?” Ryan said, a much gentler tone of voice.

“Well, we can’t beat him. And if anyone _has_ to, it has to be me so I can get my memories back.” Gavin said, feeling his persona crumble around him.

Ryan reached out comfortingly and gripped Gavin’s shoulder across the bar. Considering how long Ryan has spent stoically _avoiding_ all physical contact (he still wasn’t overly comfortable _now_ ) the small gesture felt much bigger than it was.

“Ryan, can I ask you something?” Gavin asked gently as Ryan retracted his hand.

“Sure.”

“What do you miss about back then? When they were Kings?” Gavin asked, leaning on the counter a little. Ryan mused over the question for a little while, skewing his mouth to the side as he thought.

“I miss the weapons.” Ryan said eventually.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Swords have always been my favourite weapons to use. They’re much more elegant than guns.” Ryan said. Gavin laughed and it sounded _real_. For the first time in a short while, his laugh was _real_. Ryan smiled at him and Gavin wondered if he worried about them as well.

“Did the rest of us have swords as well?” Gavin asked.

“Everyone but you.” Ryan admitted. “You used a bow and arrow.”

“I did?” Gavin asked, a small crease on his nose.

“Yeah.” Ryan looked like he wanted to say something more.

“What’s the face for?”

“I gave you your first bow.” Ryan said, slightly shyly. Gavin’s surprise much have shown on his face. “Geoff was terrified when I started teached you archery. He was always worried that you’d somehow shoot yourself, or someone else. But you seemed to have a knack for it.” He had a small smile on his face as if the memory was a pleasant one. Gavin was floored by the idea that Ryan knew him in a childhood he never remembered.

“Wait, _you_ taught me?”

“I taught you the basics. Then you would practice in this orchard by Geoff’s castle.” Ryan said, frowning as he dug through his memories. The idea of a castle was baffling to Gavin and a small headache started to grow along his temples.

“How old was I?”

“Oh, only a child. Maybe, _six_? Six or seven, I think. But Mogar and Ray both had _some_ weapon training by then, and Geoff was started to get worried.” Ryan said, looking thoughtful.

“Mogar?” Gavin asked. Ryan look startled, like Gavin had shocked him out of his thoughts.

“Michael. His name was Mogar.” Ryan’s frown smoothed over suddenly. “You really can’t remember anything.” He said gently.

“The only thing I’ve ever remembered was when I saw what Geoff and Jack looked like.” Gavin said. “I can’t even remember what Kerry did to me when he attacked us.”

“You can’t remember _anything_?” Ryan leaned back and Gavin was suddenly concerned.

“I vaguely remember Kerry’s voice in my head but I can’t remember anything else.” Gavin admitted. “Geoff didn’t want to talk about it and Jack only said that we should try to forget it happened.”

“You didn’t try to ask Michael or Ray?”

“They don’t want to talk about it either.”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Well, yeah.” Gavin said, his headache slowly growing.

Ryan walked around to the other side of the bar and sat on the stool next to Gavin. He looked tired. Gavin turned slightly to face him.

He watched as Ryan gently pulled off a glove and put his hand on the bar, palm down. Gavin frowned. He didn’t understand what Ryan was asking.

“I’m going to show you.” Ryan said, as if that explained it all.

Hesitantly, Gavin reached out and laid his hand on Ryan’s.

Immediately, the memories played in front of Gavin’s eyes.

The tone of the memories was odd. It was like Ryan was trying to present only the facts but it was obvious that what happened had upset him. Ryan didn’t show what happened to the others but Gavin could understand why. It wasn’t Ryan’s place to tell him about his Crew’s worst nightmares (or their idyllic paradise).

Gavin watched himself be a literal captive in his own mind, and Kerry telling him lies about his family. He saw how he had rejected Kerry from his mind, and how he sounded proud when he did so. The bow he held was old but too familiar for a weapon Gavin had never set eyes on in his lifetime.

A sharp pain along his temples tore Gavin’s hand away from Ryan’s. Gavin’s headache worsened and his hand gripped his head. Ryan looked concerned and almost reached out towards him, his bare hand pausing just before it reached him.

The pain subsided quickly and Gavin’s hand fell back to the bar surface. He took a few deep breaths and felt himself frown.

“Gavin?”

“I’m okay. Just a headache.” Gavin said, brushing off Ryan’s concern easily.

Ryan’s phone pinged and he quickly fished it out of his pocket. He held it so Gavin could see the screen as well. It was a message from Jack.

He opened it and they both looked at the picture attachment that had been sent. It was a picture of a wall that Gavin recognised at the wall Lindsay had shown him earlier that morning. The threatening graffiti from before had been covered up with a spray painted mural that looked more polished than what Kerry had put up. Ryan looked at Gavin with a small smile on his face and Gavin could understand why. Jack and Ray had gone to great pains to write their response over the wall.

**_LONG LIVE THE FAKES_ **

***

Geoff, Michael and Lindsay came back hours later with two new people in tow. Lindsay was the one to introduce them to the Crew members that _didn’t_ know them. She turned like she was going to introduce Gavin as he walked in but one of them accidentally interrupted her.

“Hey Gavin.” The taller of the two said casually, as Gavin walked past them on his phone. Gavin looked up from his phone and beamed.

“It’s Matt Bragg!” He half-cheered, in his strange way of greeting. Something took over Gavin and his whole posture deflated for a split second before he shook it off. “What are you doing here?”

“Something about mortal danger and keeping Jeremy safe.” Matt said, shrugging it off in a way that was obviously fake to Gavin but could have come off as convincing to anyone else. He gestured to the man stood next to him, who gave him a shy smile.

The two of them stood together and Gavin couldn’t think that it was a little funny. Matt was a fair amount taller and lankier than the short and stocky Jeremy and casually rested his elbow on Jeremy’s shoulder. It was a comfortable gesture and Gavin could feel their familiarity with each other.

“So what’s the plan?” Ryan asked, mostly to Geoff.

“Jeremy, Matt and Lindsay are going to stay in the downstairs apartment.” Geoff began.

“Wait, you guys own the apartment below us?” Michael cut him off, looking up and frowning. “Since when?”

“Since it became available a few months ago.” Geoff said. “This apartment’s not big enough for a Crew and all our shit. And right now, it’s one of the safest places for Matt and Jeremy.”

“Okay, so what do we do now we’re all in one place?” Gavin asked, locking his phone and tucking it in his pocket.

“Now we figure out how to kick Kerry’s ass.”

***  

“Hey man, couldn’t sleep either?” Jeremy asked, spotting Gavin sat on the kitchen counter.

“Nah, too much on my mind.” Gavin admitted, putting his phone down on the counter so he could give Jeremy his full attention. “I guess they told you why Kerry’s after you.”

“Lindsay told us on the ride over.” Jeremy said, sitting on one of the stools. “Pretty heavy stuff. Were they serious when they said you’re the only one without your memories?”

“Yeah. Kerry made it so that it’s almost impossible.” Gavin said. “Can you remember anything?”

“A few things, yeah. But not like the others can.” Jeremy said, scratching his head absently.

“What’s the best thing you remember?” Gavin asked, leaning back slightly on the counter.

“This big fancy masked ball. That was pretty fun.” Jeremy admitted, looking up at Gavin. He saw the look on Gavin’s face and sighed. “Hey, today’s been pretty messed up. Do you wanna go to a bar? Just to get out of here for a bit?”

“Can you drive?”

“I can drive us there. Probably not a good idea to drive back.”

“We’ll get an uber.” Gavin said, hopping off the counter.

***

The bar Gavin had chosen was one that Geoff liked to frequent.

It was the place of corrupt cops and Gavin had always wondered if that was why Geoff liked it or if he’d had a hand in that turn of the bar’s reputation. Either way, Geoff knew the owners and a few of the patrons well enough so that they could get away with going there with the LSPD out for their heads.

Gavin sat at the bar and Jeremy followed suit, ordering a few drinks from the woman at the bar.

“So when’d you move over here?” Jeremy asked, nursing his drink in a way that Gavin thought was too familiar for someone with a stranger at a bar. It was in the way that Jeremy’s body language was familiar with the situation. If Gavin didn’t know any better, he would have thought that Jeremy was used to drinking casually and learning all about the person opposite him. (But if Gavin’s instincts were right, Jeremy _definitely_ wasn’t one to date around).

“About seventeen.” Gavin admitted, _yearning_ for when he was drunk enough that the thought of England didn’t hurt. “My dad got a job over here and my family went with him. I almost stayed in England with my grandparents. They wanted me to stay and get my A Levels, but I thought that a new life in America would be cool. And I didn’t want to leave my friends, but I was still a stupid teenager and I had no clue what I wanted to do after Sixth Form, so I moved with my parents.” The memories were painful and even after almost ten years, the wounds of those goodbyes still hurt.

“What happened? How’d you end up with Geoff and Jack?” Jeremy asked, talking softly, like he sensed the pain Gavin still felt.

“I got bullied, hard. And I ran away from home. Got on the first bus I could and ended up here. Jack was the one who found me on the streets and took me in.” Gavin said. “What about you? How’d you end up in Los Santos?”

“School, actually. Los Santos has a killer art school.” Jeremy admitted.

“Seriously?” Gavin felt himself laughing at that. The idea that beautiful things could bloom in this city of bloody streets and pain was so unexpected that he could only laugh.

“Seriously.” Jeremy said. “I did a couple years of animation, finished my degree. Met Matt at a college party since he _also_ had the idea to hide on the porch in the middle of it. He was sat on a pink and white lawnchair with a handheld and the host’s cat curled up on his lap. You know what the first thing he said to me was?”

“What?”

“‘ _If you want a seat there’s one on next door’s porch, they won’t mind if you just go and grab it. Just don’t let them see you_ ’.” Jeremy recalled, laughing with Gavin at the memory.

“He didn’t.”

“I think he was a bit drunk at the time.” Jeremy admitted.

“Did you steal a chair then?”

“Yup. And we sat on that porch for the rest of the night just talking. Matt was almost finished with his second year studying architecture at another nearby college. His roommate had dragged him to that party even though he just wanted to stay home and work on minecraft.” Jeremy said, a strange look on his face.

It was different to the look Gavin had on his face when he talked about England; it was the look of a happy memory that still made him happy.

“So when did you guys move in together?” Gavin asked, waving over the barmaid and ordering more drinks for the two of them.

“When Matt graduated. My lease was up and he finally kicked his roommate out, so we got a place together.” Jeremy said, obviously thinking of fond memories. “Hey, Gav, what’s the deal with that Kerry guy? Why’s he got it out for us?”

“I dunno, Lil’ J. I really dunno.” Gavin said, finishing off his drink and smoothly picking up the third one he’d ordered. His accent began to grow a bit thicker with the drink, dropping a few words here and there. “I fink it’s because he’s still angry ‘bout how he died, yu know? Ryan told me that Kerry started a war and now tha’ we’re all reborn and that, he wants to win it this time.”

“But why us? I mean, you I can kind of understand because you’re in the Crew, but I’m practically no one to you guys.” Jeremy said.

“You used to be Geoff’s nephew apparently. And Kerry killed you and Matt, so Geoff declared war. Ryan told me that. No one else ever wants to talk about it.” Gavin said, melancholy in his voice. “I think they’re disappointed that I can’t remember it. Or sad. God, I fuck up just not _remembering._ ”

“Hey, Gav, it’s not your fault.” Jeremy said, resting his hand on Gavin’s shoulder comfortingly. “Kerry did it on purpose. It’s not your fault. Look, why don’t we go somewhere else? Let’s go to a club or something. Is there a good one round here?”

“Yeah, there’s one round the corner.” Gavin said, running a hand over his face tiredly.

He just needed a distraction, something to make him forget. Somewhere that meant he didn’t have to think for a little while.

***

The air was heavy with sweat and spilled alcohol on a too-small dance floor with too many people. They were both _just_ drunk enough to find it bearable and after another few drinks, even found it enjoyable.

They danced amongst the people who were just as drunk as they were, both of them aware that they would hate themselves sometime in the morning. Gavin knew he should be more aware of his surroundings, be more sober so he could keep his head, but after everything that had happened…

Gavin stopped giving a fuck around his tenth drink that night.

He had long since lost Jeremy in the throng of people in the nightclub. His head was too fuzzy and the neon colours had started to blur together.

Gavin wasn’t sure of the events that occurred in between joining the crowd to dance and dancing with a strange man. His hands were on the man’s hips and he felt hands on his back, his shoulders, his neck, his head. Some part of him felt guilty - Michael’s voice floating in his ears - but something about the man _compelled_ him to react. It was overwhelming. He wasn’t quite himself, but the only thing that Gavin’s brain could latch onto for reasoning was the alcohol.

The man leaned forwards and whispered something about a booth into Gavin’s ear, but Gavin was too far gone to either understand or care. The man’s hands slid down to Gavin’s wrist and he felt himself slowly be lead somewhere.

It was a bad idea spiralling into a worse situation but Gavin found that he couldn’t clear his mind enough to give a damn.

The man lead him to an empty booth and they sat close to each other. Much closer than they would have if Gavin had been sober. The man leaned in close to Gavin’s face, his mouth close to Gavin’s ear. As he leaned, his hand reached into his pocket and pulled something metallic out.

“Here.”

Every lesson he’d learned as a child about not accepting things from strangers had been tossed out of the window when the man (that Gavin had _never_ met before) handed him a small cigarette case.

The booth was out of the way of the dance floor and secluded _just_ enough so that they wouldn’t be overheard (even without the loud music threatening their eardrums). Gavin opened the cigarette case and saw small tablets in a plastic bag to keep them together.

Gavin wasn’t stupid. He’d remembered the lessons in school warning them about drugs and Gavin remembered learned about the effects of different drugs on the brain and why _not_ to take them, but the man sat close to him and whispered reassuring words, almost too quiet to be heard over the music. His lips were too close to Gavin’s skin but the alcohol made him not mind as much as he should have.

Something in Gavin still told him this was a stupid idea. He was already drunk. He needed to watch out for Jeremy. He didn’t know what was in the pill he was about to take. He didn’t know the man _giving_ him the drug.

Gavin took the pill.

“Take the other one.”

Gavin took the second pill, washing it down with a sip of beer.

It tasted weird.

Like salt. 

The man told him that it would take a while to kick in, and he gently placed his hand on the side of Gavin’s face, forcing him to look the man in the eye. His grip was solid and Gavin was intoxicated. His other hand rested on his leg and Gavin begged himself to come to his senses.

Small voices in the back of his head screamed at him. Reminded him that this was _wrong_. The way the man was holding him was _wrong_. Something was completely, _incredibly wrong!_

A sharp noise snagged Gavin’s attention and he looked out over the crowd of people. Gavin’s eyes scanned the faces and he thought he saw a glimpse of Jeremy. He stood and pushed his way from the booth towards him. The world around him started to feel _different_ as Gavin pushed his way through the people.

He felt _slower_. Or calmer. Or both.

It was like the world had ground to _almost_ a halt around him. The neon lights and the sounds of the DJ was dimmed to a faint background noise. Gavin’s vision began to blur around the edges and his eyelids felt too heavy. It was like those pills had made him the worst kind of drunk possible.

But Gavin still pushed through the crowd, moving with the swaying of bodies.

A disturbance in the crowd briefly caught his attention. It looked like someone was making their way to him. The man from before…. Was it him?

A pair of hands grabbed his arms and Gavin’s attention snapped to the person.

“ _Miccus_!” Gavin shouted, almost loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Gavin, what the fuck are you doing here?! Where’s Jeremy?!” Michael shouted, moving closer so that Gavin could hear him clearly. Gavin only shook his head, a slow smile on his face.

Michael must have thought that the gesture meant Gavin couldn’t hear him and probably made a noise of annoyance that was drowned out. Gavin felt himself be pulled out of the crowd by Michael into the bathrooms off to the side.

The bathroom was disgusting and barely lit. Not a single other person was in there, but it was far removed from the obnoxious drum beat of the club.

“Gavin, what the fuck?!” Michael exploded, dropping Gavin’s hands the moment the door was shut. “Are you _drunk_?! Where the fuck is Jeremy?! You guys weren’t meant to leave the _fucking_ apartment! _Why did you leave the fucking apartment?!_ ”

“ _Mico_ ,” Gavin’s words were slurred and his accent thicker to the point where his words were strange even to his own ears. He reached out and grabbed Michael’s leather jacket, pulling him closer. “ _Mico listen_.”

He wanted to tell him that something wasn’t right. Or that he felt weird. OR that he wasn’t sure but he thought that he’d done something wrong that night. Or about the strange man who gave him something strange.

None of that was conveyed.

Michael’s hands grabbed Gavin’s wrists. The look on his face was strange, or maybe that was just Gavin’s slowed perception.

Gavin felt himself pushing the two of them forwards and Michael stumbled backwards into one of the stalls, catching Gavin before they both fell over.

“Gavin, are you _high_?” Michael squinted at Gavin but he sounded betrayed for some reason.

“ _Dunno_.” Gavin said, honestly not sure about anything right then.

“Gav-”

“ _Mogar,_ ” Gavin interrupted. Michael’s face changed imperceptibly and he stilled.

“How do you know that name?” Michael asked, not quite scared. Not quite closed-off. Confused, if anything.

“ _Mogar..._ ”

Some emotion that Gavin knew briefly, swelled in his chest and he leaned forwards,  pulling Michael in for a kiss. It was sloppy and as slow as Gavin’s brain was processing everything, but Gavin could never get tired of the feel of Michael against him.

He felt the familiar electricity spark across his skin as Michael’s hand accidentally brushed against his hip as he reached for something.

“What did you take?” Michael asked, pulling away from Gavin but still holding his hands. Gavin couldn’t tell if he made a noise or not, but he didn’t care.

“ _A tablet_.” Gavin voice was low and still slurred.

“Who gave it to you?” Michael’s voice was strong and grounded him when the world felt strange.

“ _A man._ ” Gavin tried to lean forwards to get back to kissing, but Michael turned his head away.

“I need to get you home.” Michael muttered, opening the stall door and dragging Gavin out.

Michael pulled Gavin through the crowd on the dancefloor and out of the door. The cold air outside was a shock to Gavin’s system but he could only focus on Michael’s grip on his wrist. The world still seemed too dull.

They turned left outside the club and Michael immediately ran into someone on their way in.

“Hey, sorry man.” The person said, throwing the two of them an apologetic look. If Gavin had been more sober, if he’d never taken that pill, maybe he would have noticed the slight of hand. Maybe he would have told Michael. Maybe the world would have made sense.

They carried on walking.

Gavin saw a familiar car parked on the street around the corner and he felt relieved when he saw two familiar faces leaning against the car.

“Thank _fuck_ you found him.” Michael said as they got closer. Ray looked up and Gavin felt his gaze slide onto him.

“Is he drunk too?” Ray asked, already in the process of helping Jeremy into the back seat of the car they’d brought. Michael stopped beside Ray, a grave look on his face.

“And high.” Michael said, lowering his voice and Gavin wondered if he was imagining the disappointment in his voice.

“ _Shit_.” Ray frowned. Michael helped Gavin get into the back seat of the car and felt ashamed, almost.

Jeremy had already passed out in the seat and Gavin _wished_ he could as well. He wished the whole experience would just _end_ already.

He felt ashamed and vulnerable and stupid and stripped bare all at once and he spent the entire ride home staring out the window at the city. Neon signs in shop windows looked _beautiful_ and Gavin tried to remember a city like in England.

Gavin couldn’t help but notice that he’d been thinking a lot about England lately.

***

Ray was the one who offered to get Gavin to his room, but Michael refused. Gavin was almost relieved.

He knew Ray had a bad history with drugs (not that he knew the full story), so he wasn’t surprised that Ray wanted nothing to do with him right then.

Michael waited until Ray had taken Jeremy ahead and helped Gavin out the car. He wasn’t as steady as he’d been before and Michael moved his arm over his shoulder.

The apartment was silent and Gavin felt guilty walking back to his room. He half expected Geoff and Jack to be waiting up to tell him off, but Michael just lead him to his room.

He didn’t bother turning the lights on and Gavin only paused to pull off his jeans and shirts before he crawled under his silk sheets.

Michael left for a moment and came back with a glass of water, leaving it on the bedside table for the morning.

“Night, Gav.” Michael hissed, turning to leave.

“ _Micool,_ ” Gavin reached out and weakly gripped Michael’s sleeve before he had a chance to leave him. “ _I’m sorry, Micool_.” His words were still slurred and almost pathetic sounding.

Michael looked down at him, his face shadowed in the dark room. The bed dipped beside Gavin and he felt Michael’s hand gently fiddling with his hair.

“ _I’m sorry I’m high. I’m sorry you had to come get us_.” Gavin’s voice was barely audible into silent room and his breathing with slightly erratic. “ _I’m sorry if you don’t like me anymore_.”

“I still like you Gavvy.” Michael whispered.

Gavin heard his own breath hitch and gently moved his hand so he could hold Michael’s. Their hands twisted so their palms were together and Gavin felt loved, even from such a simple gesture.

“ _But in the loo_ -”

“I didn’t want to make out with you when you were drunk and high.”  Michael said gently. “Go to sleep, Gav. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“ _Stay with me._ ” Gavin said, close to a plead.

Michael stood up and Gavin heard the sound of something hitting the floor. The sheets were pulled back and Gavin moved backwards, giving Michael a bit more room. Warm hands wrapped around him and Gavin sighed as he rested his head on the pillow.

***

Gavin woke up in an empty bed again and felt like _death_.

He reached out to the glass that he couldn’t remember leaving there. A hand reached out and passed it to him. Gavin sat up against the headboard and tried to focus on the person who the hand belonged to. He expected maybe Geoff or Jack... _Ryan_ at a push.

He didn’t expect Ray to be sat cross-legged on his desk chair.

“Hey,” Gavin said. An inadequate greeting after what had happened. After what he did.

“Hey man.” Ray said, as casually as anything.

“What time is it?” Gavin took a few sips of the water.

“Ten, maybe.” Ray said, not bothering to check on his watch or a phone. “Hey, look. I wanted to talk to you. About last night.”

“Ray, I-”

“I’m not pissed at you.” Ray said, soothing Gavin’s worries. “Let me guess though; someone pulled you aside and offered you a drug that you knew you _shouldn’t_ take, but they made it sound too good to not take.”

Gavin scrutinised Ray’s face before finally nodding.

“I can barely remember anything from last night. I just remember a guy telling me to take something and then a big black space.” Gavin said, feeling much younger than he was. “I shouldn’t have listened to him.”

“I don’t think it wouldn’t made a difference.” Ray admitted.

“How’d you know, anyway?” Gavin asked, putting the glass back down.

“Same thing happened to me before we met you guys.” Ray said. He said it casually, but Gavin knew that he was learning information that very few other people knew.

He was silent, waiting to see if Ray was going to carry on.

“I got hooked on heroin. Same situation too. I was in a club with some work friends and suddenly this guy was pulling me aside, telling me it was a good idea, that if I did my problems would just go away. He told me that I’d stop seeing the weird man without a face. I don’t know why I did it, but I took it. Dude... It _sucked_. I felt great then I felt fucking _awful_. But I went back to the club a few days later with Michael and the guy was there. I didn’t want a second hit, but… I dunno, man. Maybe he talked me into it. Maybe I was already hooked. But I kept going back, kept getting a hit, kept going back to the apartment and pretending that I wasn’t addicted to drugs. Was it the same with you? You didn’t want to, but talking to the guy made you do it anyway?”

Gavin nodded, remembering the man from the night before. His throat felt tight and he couldn’t actually formulate any words _to_ speak. Ray nodded in acknowledgement and looked down at his hands in his lap.

“I kept going back to him. The last time I went back to the guy, he wasn’t there. It was some other dude who gave me the dose. It was too much, or it was cut with something, but the next thing I remember is waking up back at the apartment with Michael glaring at me and telling me I had to quit. He stayed up all night just to make sure I didn’t accidentally drown in my own vomit that night or some shit like that.”

Ray took a couple deep breaths and Gavin wanted to reach out, but the slowly creeping back memories kept him in place. Gavin kept silent, waiting for Ray to be able to carry on.

“He was right, but it wasn’t until then that I accepted that I’d been a junkie. Michael was the one who helped me quit. He kept a constant watch on me. Locked me in my room if I had to. Stopped me from killing myself when the withdrawals got too bad. Made sure I ate something and drank some water. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for him.” Ray spoke as he normally did, but Gavin could hear the underlying tone of the regret and sorrow and self-loathing. It was subtle but it was there.

He felt it too.

“Ray-”

“Look, man.” Ray said, lifting his gaze to look Gavin in the eye. “I get it. I know why you did it. And I’m just thankful that it wasn’t something like cocaine or some drug that’s easy to get hooked on. But you need to be smart. No more bottling shit up. No more going out and getting drunk just you and Jeremy. This is _real_. These people want us dead. Kerry and that guy that drugged us want to do something to us. I’m _positive_ that if Michael hadn’t gotten to you, then _they_ would’ve.”

Gavin felt a chill run down his spine at that. Had he really dodged that much of a bullet? The thought was terrifying.

“Where’s Michael?” Gavin asked.

“Getting the car you and Jeremy took last night.” Ray admitted. “Look, man, Michael’s okay with all this. Or, he will be. If you explain this all to him, he’ll understand. He knows what happened to me.”

“I know that, Ray. But I’m really confused right now.” Gavin felt himself curling up. “I literally can’t remember what happened. I just remember taking the pill the guy told me to, then I woke up here.”

“Did the guy tell you anything about what he was giving you?” Ray asked, frowning at him now.

“He just said something about how it’d calm me down.” Gavin said, hooking his hands around his knees.

“And you can’t remember anything after that?” Ray continued.

“Yeah.”

Ray nodded solemnly and they were both quiet for a moment. Gavin was about to ask what Ray was thinking when he stood up from the chair and stretched his legs. He reached over to Gavin’s bedside table and picked up a small, plastic bottle, placing it next to Gavin’s glass of water.

“You get some sleep. Try and sleep off that hangover.” Ray said. “Also, take some of those. Don’t worry, it’s just aspirin.” He said, a half-smile on his face that Gavin took to be reassurance with a bit of humour.

Gavin nodded and settled back down against the pillows as the bedroom door shut behind Ray. He quickly swallowed an aspirin and turned onto his side, closing his eyes and letting sleep take him.

***

A couple hours passed before there was another knock on Gavin’s door.

Sleep had come in fits and bursts so it didn’t take all that much for Gavin to wake up and beckon the person in.

Jack’s head peered around the doorframe and she crept inside the room, deftly maneuvering the piles of possessions. She held a glass and a small plate in her hands and gently placed them on Gavin’s bedside table.

“How’re you doing, champ?” Jack asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Gavin’s knees. He pulled his legs up to accommodate for her and tried to squash the strange feeling from the familiarity of the interaction.

“Could be better.” Gavin said, absently curling up. He tucked his feet under himself and pretended not to see Jack’s concerned look.

She looked like she used to.

Her hair was pulled back in a french plait that only Lindsay could have done to her, her shorts were sunbleached from their exertions and her shirt had a few loose threads that trailed back to sewn up holes (from bullets or from general wear and tear). Gavin remembered the day he met her and realised that the only thing that changed was the content of her bank account and the kind of cars she drove. He knew that, really, they’d all changed much more than they wanted to admit. But it made him feel better to think that they’d always been this fucked up.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Jack asked, tilting her head to the side slightly. A stray hair fell onto his face and she didn’t bother pushing it back.

“Did Ray tell you?” Gavin asked.

“He told me you and Jeremy got drunk last night. And that he thinks you were roofied.” Jack said gently.  

Gavin’s head whipped up to look at her. Roofied? That wasn't possible - at least not _probable_. That kind of thing only happened in the movies. (Then again, most of his life played out like a movie).

“What? That can’t be right?” Gavin said instinctually, but the more he thought about it….

“Gav,” Jack said, catching his attention again. “What happened last night? We’re not angry. I just want to know what happened.”

Her expression was so open and so maternal; much more than his own mother had ever been. Gavin felt himself breaking down and he spilled everything.

About being the only one without his memories; about talking to Jeremy; about the bar, and the club; about the strange man and what he did; about the drugs; about Michael finding him.

He spilled it all, and Jack didn’t interrupt him once.

Gavin broke down when he told her about the man and what he did. What he _almost_ did. Jack pulled him close to her and they held each other. Silent tears streaked down Jack’s face as she listened to Gavin’s story. Gavin wondered if she’d felt the same way at some point. If she’d ever felt this vulnerable, this stupid, this weak, this _used_ because of someone she didn’t know.

(He hoped and prayed on anything he believed in that she hadn’t.)

Jack held him until his mind felt clearer and Gavin wiped his face clean as he sat back. They were both quiet for a moment or two, just breathing and taking it in.

“You’re not a bad person.” Jack said eventually, her soft voice a shout in the silent room.

“I feel like I did something wrong.” Gavin said, remembering the man’s hands on him and how he couldn’t - didn’t - move away.

“But you weren’t yourself. You’re not a bad person if someone made you do something bad.” Jack said, reaching her hand out. Gavin grasped it, clinging to the support. “I think he drugged you. And I don’t think it was your fault. You’re not a bad kid.”

Gavin wanted so badly to believe her.

He thought of that man and what he was with Michael. He thought of his gunpowder skin and bloodstained hands. He thought of the funerals he caused but never attended. Of all the chaos he’d caused and laughed about.

Maybe he wasn’t a bad person for what the man did to him…

But was he a bad person if he played God just because he was bored?

“Geoff’s trying to find him.” Jack said suddenly, snapping Gavin out of his thoughts.

“The bloke?”

“Yeah. He’d contacted the owner and they’re going through the surveillance footage.” Jack said. “I don’t know how much they’ll find, or if they should be doing this _now_ but hopefully they’ll get something.”

“I hope so too.” Gavin said, nodding absently.

His thoughts felt scattered and all jumbled up. He had too many trains of thought going at once but he kept coming back to one.

_'Am I a bad person? Or have bad things made me this way?’_

***

_W a k e u p_

_G  a  v  i  n_

_D o i t n o w_

**_N  o  w_ **

“ ** _GAVIN!_** ”

Something hard his Gavin in the chest and he fell backwards, trying to suck in air to his winded lungs.

Gavin blinked blearily for a few seconds before he could focus on what was happened.

His brain could only process chunks of the world around him.

Jack was sat up on the sofa, one hand on her throat, coughing violently.

Geoff was stood beside her, his hands inspecting the injuries.

Ryan was knelt beside him, not too close but not too far away.

Ryan looked like he was going to reach out to him, but he didn’t.

Lindsay was stood behind the sofa, talking on the phone to someone.

Michael was running to Gavin’s side, dropping the heavy bat from his hands.

Ray stood with a gun in his hands, not moving from the doorway.

“ _Lindsay, we need to take Jack to the hospital! She needs a doctor! One we trust!”_

_"I’ve already called Caleb, he’s prepping a room for her now.”_

_“Ryan, you’re in charge while we’re out."_

_“Watch Gavin for us, Rye. Call us if_ anything _happens, alright?”_

_“Gotcha.”_

Gavin blinked again.

His head felt fuzzy, like something was stopping him from thinking clearly.

“ _Ray, put that gun down._ ”

Gavin looked up fully and saw the nozzle of the gun in Ray’s hand aimed at him. The pressure in his head lightened enough for Gavin to make sense of that.

Ray was aiming a gun at him.

Ray was _pointing_ a gun at _him_.

Ray was going to shoot him.

“Ray, put the _fucking_ gun down!” Michael shouted, the anger in his voice loud and prominent.

Gavin reached out towards Ryan and he felt Ryan’s gloved hands helping him to his feet. Ray’s gun followed him the entire time.

“Ray, calm _down_.” Ryan said, propping Gavin up with one hand and extending the other towards Ray in a placating gesture.

Michael looked thunderous and Gavin couldn’t focus on anything but the barrel of the gun aimed at his face.

“It’s in him, Ryan. Kerry’s _doing_ something to him.” To an outside observer, Ray would have sounded completely calm and collected. But Gavin knew him. Gavin _knew_ Ray. And Ray was afraid.

“What the _fuck_ do you mean?!” Michael snapped, placing himself firmly between Ray’s gun and Gavin.

“They drugged him in that nightclub.” Ray said, forcing himself to take deep breaths. “Kerry’s fucking _whispering_ to him or something. You think Gavin would _ever_ try and strangle Jack if he was in his right mind?”

“I- I did what?” Gavin suddenly couldn’t breathe.

No.

Ray was wrong.

He had to be.

Gavin wouldn’t- He would _never_ -

_Jack_ …

“See! He doesn’t even know what Kerry made him do!” Ray said, adjusting his aim ever so slightly.

“Ray, please, calm down.” Ryan said, using both hands to hold Gavin up now. (He hadn’t even felt his knees give out on him.)

But Ray’s words echoed in Gavin’s head.

... _Kerry’s doing something_ _to him… They drugged him…. Doesn’t even know what Kerry made him do..._

Small memories suddenly made sense.

The voice in his head that told him to run away.

The whispers of doubt.

Why he was trapped in his own brain that night.

It all clicked.

Ray was right.

Gavin’s movements became mechanical. He forced himself to walk over to the coffee table and opened the drawer. His golden gun rested inside and Gavin pulled it out, holding it loosely in his grip.

He moved slowly over to Michael, who was glaring at the whole situation. Michael’s shoulders were tense and his glare morphed to a frown when Gavin grabbed his wrist and pulled his hands up.

Gavin pressed the gun into Michael’s hand, fixing his grip. He pulled Michael’s hands up and aimed the nozzle of the pistol between his eyes.

“Gavin, what the _fuck_!” Michael shouted, the smallest tremor in his hands. Gavin took a breath and finally let go of Michael’s hands, letting his arms fall to his side. He closed his eyes, focusing on the press of gunmetal against his skin.

The shouts around him melted away and Gavin could _feel_ the small voice in his head getting more _insistent_ , more _urgent_ , more _desperate_. Telling him to back down, telling him he was too weak to go through with it, telling him no one would miss him if Michael pulled the trigger right then and there.

“ _Michael_ ,” Gavin’s voice was low and scared. He didn’t care if everyone else could hear him. “Ray’s _right_. I can feel him. He’s in my head.”

“Gavin,” Michael’s voice was unnerved but Gavin was calmer than he’d even been in his life.

“If I’m going to die, it’s going to be on my terms. And if anyone’s going to shoot me, I want it to be you.” Gavin said, quietly. It was a private sentiment: only for Michael. His boi.

“ _GAVIN, STOP THIS._ ” Ryan’s voice cut through the buzzing in his head. He sounded so scared. Gavin forgot Ryan could be scared.

“Gav, I can’t do it.” Michael’s arms started to drop but Gavin opened his eyes and propped Michael’s arms back up.

“If Kerry’s in my _head,_ then I’m putting you lot in danger. And I’m not having that.” Gavin said, louder this time. This was his justification; his reasoning. His apology.

Time seemed to pause for a second and Gavin saw Michael flinch as a sharp pain hit Gavin’s shoulder blade. It wasn’t overly painful, but Gavin felt something begin to infect his system, forcing darkness to close in on his vision.

The last thought Gavin had was ‘ _at least I’ll get so say goodbye to mum and dad now_ ’.

***

“ _Shit!_ Fuck _!”_

_“Kerry, calm down.”_

_“No,_ you _calm down, Fish! This changes_ everything _. Every plan I had.”_

 

_“He any calmer?”_

_A sigh._

_“No, Moon.”_

_“Hey, quick question: did anyone else feel_ super _bad about this plan, anyway?”_

_“You aren’t doubting Dragonface_ now _, are you Moon?”_

_“W- What? No, of course not.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that cliffhanger tho.......
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I'm sorry~~


	3. M.J. - The Firecracker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, I can explain  
> ....  
> ....  
> Actually I think [this kind of explains it](http://private-doughnut.tumblr.com/post/151615954599/hi-im-just-wondering-will-you-end-your-fake). A least for why it took so long for this to happen even after 50% was written.
> 
> But yeah...
> 
> A couple weeks ago I got a drive to finish this chapter and had a few ideas for the rest of it. I won't say that this will be finished any time soon - because I have exams and A Levels and university and stuff - but at least this chapter's done. I also want this to be a reminder for myself to get back into RT because I realised how much I love it and how much _fun_ it is to be apart of a community.
> 
> so yeah, sorry for the wait I guess.
> 
> Hope this lives up to your expectations

_“I told you.”_

_“Go away.”_

_“I warned you. I_ told _you. You can’t save them.”_

_“Get_ out _of my_ head! _”_

_“They’re mine now, Undead King. You can’t win. They aren’t meant to exist anymore, but they’re here. And now it’s my job to fix it.”_

_“LEAVE ME ALONE!”_

_“...”_

_“... This is my second chance. I’m not going to waste it.”_

_“...”_

_“I’ll save them. I will. Even if it kills me. I’m not going to let them die again.”_

_“...”_

_“...”_

_“... We’ll see…”_

***

The gun clattered to the floor and Michael suddenly lurched forwards to catch Gavin before he fell. He slumped against Michael’s chest, intact but out cold. He caught sight of something pink and fluffy sticking out of Gavin’s neck but a sound caught his attention.

Michael’s eyes snapped up and he saw Matt and Jeremy standing a little way away from the cluster of people.

Jeremy’s arms were stretched outwards and a single barrel gun was clasped in his hands tightly. He shook as he slowly lowered his arms. Matt’s hand rested on his shoulder as he spoke into the phone clasped tightly in his grip.

“ _He’s out now…. Okay, we’ll tell them… Just make sure she’s okay before you worry about us now. What? Oh, he’s right here."_ Matt said into the phone. Jeremy wordlessly handed the tranquiliser gun to Matt and took the phone that Matt held out. Matt took the tranquiliser gun as Jeremy said a few, shaky words down the line, adjusted his grip and shot Ray in the shoulder.

Between blinks, Ryan was by Ray’s side, catching him as the tranquiliser began to infect his system.

“What the _fuck_ , Matt?!” Michael shouted as Ryan maneuvered Ray over to one of the comfy chairs. As soon as Ray was safely placed, Ryan carefully hefted Gavin from Michael’s grip and walked to another of the chairs.

Ryan carried them both with such a degree of care that it would have been strange to watch if you hadn’t known the man to once pick up a baby duckling that had fallen behind its family. In the middle of a heist. (Stupid, fucking warm-hearted killer.)

“Lindsay told us to.” Matt said, lowering the tranquiliser gun and gently placing it on a nearby table.

Michael felt a rage swell inside him and he surged forwards, closing his hands around Matt’s neck. Not enough to do permanent damage, but enough.

“MICHAEL!” Ryan shouted, his voice echoing somehow.

Matt’s eyes were calm as he stared Michael down. He wasn’t afraid.

Even as his face began to tint red, Matt wasn’t afraid.

“ _What did Lindsay tell you_?” Michael said, his voice low and dangerous.

“She told us that Kerry was controlling Ray and Gavin.” Matt said, his voice breathy from Michael’s grip. “She told us to sedate them until she can do something, or until we know just how much control Kerry has.”

“Michael, let go of him.” Jeremy demanded, a real gun suddenly in his hands and aimed at Michael’s head. From everything that Michael knew about Jeremy (which really wasn’t much) he knew that the look on his face wasn’t a usual one.

“Everyone need to calm down, _now_.” Ryan commanded, his voice sounding odd.

Something deep inside Michael seemed to take over and his hands released Matt’s neck at the same time Jeremy dropped the gun to the floor.

There seemed to be two seconds where everyone was frozen before the curse was lifted and the world snapped back into real time. Michael stumbled backwards, hitting his legs against the sofa. Jeremy surged forwards, running to Matt’s side as he rubbed his neck.

Michael whipped his head around and stared at Ryan, who was hanging his head. He looked ashamed.

“What did you _do_?” Michael sounded betrayed. Ryan didn’t look up, but Michael had a feeling that Ryan knew exactly what he did (and probably wished he hadn’t).

“Dude, you okay?” Jeremy was saying, his hands gentle on Matt’s shoulders. Matt nodded and Michael tried not to feel guilty about the small bruises that would bloom soon.

“I’ve never done that before and I’ll never do that again, Michael. I promise.” Ryan said, bringing himself up to his full height and finally raising his head. Michael could see his eyes through the mask’s eyeholes and Michael wondered if they’d always been that… _bright_.

“How did you even do that?” Michael asked, looking down at his hands like he’d never seen them before. He’d never… not been in control like that.

Michael had learned early on in his life that control was key. He had to learn how to control his handwriting, control his emotions, his anger, his hair, his clothes. Then later he had to learn how to control an explosion. The smallest amount he could use to get a big enough reaction. How far away he needed to be from the blast to still be safe. Controlled demolition. Controlled explosions. Controlled aim.

Everything about himself had been centred around control. Never drinking too much so that he wasn’t in control of himself (not even after a heist). Never taking drugs (especially after what happened to Ray). Never even taking heavy pain medication like the others did if they got _particularly_ fucked up on a job.

Michael _lived_ for control. He was reckless, but never without limits. He was a loose cannon, but he always had a target. Even if me missed, the aim was still there.

But in that moment, Michael was _out_ of control. And it terrified him.

“It was an ability I was granted after I died.” Ryan admitted. “I’ve never used it because it feels _wrong_. Having the ability to _overwrite_ someone’s brain with what you want them to do?”

“It’s pretty gross.” Michael agreed, twisting his hands together but looking up at Ryan, who nodded solemnly.

“I’m sorry. But someone’s going to die if we all don’t just calm down right now.” Ryan said, raising his voice slightly so that every (conscious) person in the apartment could hear him.

Jeremy and Matt looked up at him and listened intently.

“We don’t know for definite what’s happening right now. What we _think_ is happening, is that Kerry was controlling Gavin and that’s why he attacked Jack. I’m not sure about Lindsay’s theory about Ray but we can’t rule it out. Lindsay’s always been perceptive about this kind of stuff. Right now, all we can do is keep an eye on Ray and Gavin and wait for news on Jack.” Ryan spoke confidently, like a leader talking to his men. (Or a King, maybe, calming down his subjects). “Jeremy and Matt, you can take my room tonight. I think we should all be in one place until we know more. There’s weapons under the bed just in case but don’t touch them unless you _absolutely_ need to use them.”

Matt nodded and wrapped his arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, beginning to walk towards Ryan’s mostly unused bedroom.

“Michael, help me get Ray and Gavin to Geoff and Jack’s room.” Ryan said, walking over to the armchair where Ray was curled up.

“Why Geoff and Jack’s room?” Michael asked as he moved around to the other side of the sofa, where Gavin was unconscious.

“It’s got the heaviest locks on it.”

Michael just shrugged and picked up Gavin from the sofa. He slung one of Gavin’s arms around his neck and propped him up as best he could. Michael wasn’t even surprised when he looked up to see Ryan holding Ray in his arms as easily as if he was lifting up a magazine.

Some sad memory in Michael’s head reminded him that there was a time that Ray was light enough for Michael to lift him.

_(There were times when the only way he could move around was when Michael lifted him there.)_

Michael shook his head, scattering those thoughts from his mind. He followed Ryan down the corridor, supporting Gavin’s weight as best he could. Ryan helped him lay both of them on the oversized bed in Geoff and Jack’s room.

“Do you wanna go get some sleep?” Ryan asked, turning the bedside lamps on so the room was at least partially illuminated.

“You’re staying here?” Michael asked, his arms folded over his chest.

“I don’t sleep much anyway. And someone needs to be here to watch over them.” Ryan said.

“Well then someone should be here to keep you company.” Michael said, flashing Ryan a grin with no real feeling behind it. In all honesty, Michael was exhausted to the point where he wanted nothing more than to just curl up somewhere and pass out, but he felt too wired to sleep. Dangerous combination.

Ryan nodded and pulled up the computer desk chair and the vanity chair by Jack’s dressing table. Michael sat on the desk chair and brought his knees up to his chest, leaving Ryan to the fancy, crafted vanity chair that Jack had acquired somehow.

“What do you think happened?” Michael asked, glancing over at Ryan.

“Hm?”

“Do you think they were both controlled?” Michael clarified.

“I hope not.” Ryan said, looking at the two Lads with a withdrawn look in his eyes. “If they were controlled, that means that Kerry’s stronger than ever.”

“I mean, it explains why Gavin attacked Jack.” Michael said, shrugging.

“It’s more than that.” Ryan said, sounding much older than he looked. “Think about his behaviour recently. Going to a club and taking drugs some random guy offered him; freaking out when driving; telling you to shoot him. The… _ability_ … isn’t strong. It take a lot to make someone do something they don’t want to. So Kerry’s been manipulating them over a long time, so we wouldn’t notice it right away. He’s strong, now.”

“He had a few dirty tricks.” Michael said, brushing it off.

“The same dirty tricks I have.” Ryan pointed out.

“Wait, how’d you both survive?” Michael asked, shifting in the chair slightly. “I thought Kerry was killed. That’s what ended the war, right?”

“That’s what I thought. Right up until I began to become aware of you guys. That’s when I started to sense Kerry. I assume he got the same ‘ _gifts_ ’ that I did from the same people.”  

“Where’d you get them? I mean, who gave you your ‘ _gifts_ ’.” Michael asked.

“A god.” Ryan admitted.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” Michael said, turning back to look at his friends.  

The silence between them was oddly comforting. Maybe Michael just felt safe at that moment, but he found himself drifting off, curled up on the computer chair.

### *** 

The memories found Michael that night.

For the first time, he wasn’t an observer of his own past.

Michael was sat at a table, not more than fifteen years old. A man that shared half his features sat next to him, dressed in furs and with red tribal markings along his chest and arms and a large uncut gemstone draped around the man’s neck. Michael could feel heavy pelts on his bare skin and tight laces wound around his legs.

The room they were in looked like a cross between a ballroom and a grand hall. Large stained glass windows spun brightly coloured patterns on the floor around them. They depicted scenes of victorious battles and Gods coming to the mortal plane to speak with holy men and healers and packs of wild animals running beside wild clans. They were beautiful, and breathtaking.

Michael suddenly stood up from the table, and he walked out.

Silence fell when Michael’s chair fell the floor and he could feel eyes on him as he threw open the doors. Servants jumped out of his way as he walked.  He hated the distrust in their eyes, hated that he knew exactly _why_ they looked at him with scorn.

The castle morphed into the city around him and the people also looked at him with distrust, but also curiosity. Little children’s eyes followed him as he walked, taking in his furs and his marks with something akin to wonder in their eyes.

A noble (albeit, a wild one) just _walking_ through the streets? Unarmed, unguarded, unescorted. Practically unheard of; unless they were wearing all green and carried a bow and quiver.

The city morphed into the kingdom boundary and Michael stopped. He looked around at all the fields, the distant forests that Gavin would use as hunting grounds, the far off mountains in the distance covering his view of his homeland.

He took it all in.

Slowly, he stretched his muscles. Took off his shoes. Unclasped the furs around his neck. Placed them in a small pile just outside the walls.

Then he ran.

The feeling of ground was familiar beneath his bare feet. The feeling of wind whipping his skin as he sprinted was an old comfort. The forests were his home and thrummed in his blood.

Empty air snapped to thickets of trees as Michael still ran. His tribe was known for their hunts. Tracking, chasing, wounding, killing: it was a part of him. He’d first killed a beast for food when he was a child. His first pack hunt was his celebration of reaching adolescence.  His people were connected to the ground beneath his feet, to the trees around him, to the birds that roosted above him, to the animals that ran alongside him.

He was a wild animal in human skin.

So he ran.

The sound of rushing water reached him and Michael ran towards it. He followed the river downstream and stopped just short of the lip of a waterfall.

It wasn’t deep, continuing the stream instead of pooling or going underground. Michael’s toes curled around the rock that had eroded there. Carefully, the bag the carried around his middle was placed beside him. He jumped.

Water coddled him as he sank. It felt warm against his skin and let himself hang there for a moment; supported by the pool. He watched a few bubbles rise to the surface, enthralled.

Michael gently swam up to the surface when his lungs began to ache. He broke the surface and pushed his sodden hair back out of his face. The pool was surrounded by flat slabs of rock so Michael pulled himself up onto one of them, letting his calves stay submerged in the pool.

Faint bird song floated down to him and Michael breathed easily for the first time since he’d arrived there.

He leaned forwards and looked at his reflection in the pool. Some small, blue markings had been painted on his sides for when he and his father would arrive, as a sign of respect and of his own nobility. They’d been washed away when he’d jumped and Michael was glad. Blue markings were purely decorative. They didn’t mean anything but to make someone else feel better.

He looked at his bare skin and wondered what he would look like with his father’s red markings. Wondered if he’d be able to carry them with the same pride as his father. Wondered if he’d be a good leader one day.

He’d hoped so.

“Mogar,”

Michael was on his feet in an instant, slowly backing away from the pool. He wasn’t going to be put at any more of a disadvantage than he already was without his sword. Water from his legs pooled around his feet and he felt thin trails run down his back.

It took a few seconds for Michael to find the source of the voice, but he relaxed when he did.

“What are you doing here, Kerry?” Michael asked, a smile on his face as he took a few steps forwards towards his friend.

While they weren’t tribe mates, their tribes were sisters. They’d been born within a year of each other and interacted fairly regularly. In fact, before Michael had joined his father when he travelled to the Ramsey kingdom each year, Kerry was his closest friend.

“It’s Dragonface now.” Kerry said, a sheepish edge to him. He stood openly and Michael walked closer still.

“What happened? Did you complete your hunt?” Michael asked. Kerry nodded, but he stood with a bit of uncertainty. A cold feeling settled in Michael’s chest and he stopped dead in his tracks. “How did you get here? Your tribe isn’t meant to be here.”

Something rustled behind Michael and he whipped around in time to see a figure lunge out from the brush.

He had no weapon. He was bare from the waist up. His bag was several metres above him on a rock.

Michael only had time to dive out the way before he heard a sharp _twang!_ resonate through the trees.

When he stood, an arrow stuck out of the attacker’s neck and they lay on the rock. Blood slowly inched its way towards the pool, diluting with the puddles that Michael had caused. Someone dropped down from the trees and Michael didn’t need to look to see who it was.

A gentle hand shook Michael’s shoulder until he opened his eyes blearily, the dream fading from his mind.

Something smelled strongly of coffee and it took a few seconds for Michael to focus on the mug being held out in front of his face. He reached out for it blindly and immediately felt the warmth of the ceramic in his palm.

At some point in the night, Michael had slipped down a bit in the chair, so he pushed himself up to begin drinking.

“Sleep well?”

Michael almost spat out the coffee.

“Okay. Could have been better.” Michael said, trying to be cool and _not_ caught off guard. “What about you, Matt?”

Matt just shrugged in response. Michael could see the small bruises starting to form along Matt’s throat and felt his guilt swell up once again. He looked down at his coffee mug and Matt noticed.

“Hey, it’s alright. Tension was high and everyone was scared.” Matt said fairly. “And it’s not like you could have hurt me anyway.” He shrugged, and Michael dropped the subject.

The room was quiet between them as Michael slowly drank his coffee but Matt didn’t leave. Despite the sort of apologies, the awkwardness (that could only come about from attempted murder) still hung around them.

In all honesty, Michael felt he was getting off lightly with just a bit of awkwardness.

“Er, hey, Michael?” Matt’s voice was hesitant and it put Michael on edge just the slightest bit.

“Yeah?”

“You remember who you used to be, right?” Matt asked. He seemed encouraged by Michael’s slow nod. “Well, thing is, Jeremy can’t.”

“I guess I figured as much.” Michael admitted, smoothly bluffing his way through _that_ encounter.

“Yeah, well, I can.”

Michael was lucky that he wasn’t taking a drink when Matt had said that, or he might have choked.

“You remember?” Michael repeated.

“Yeah. I remember everything. That’s why I took that shitty job at the ammo shop Jack uses.” Matt said. “I figured it was better to be a familiar face than a stranger. Though seriously, that place is ridiculously overpriced.”

“How much of our past lives do you remember?” Michael was looking at him with a strange intensity now.

“Pretty much everything. You guys; Geoff’s kingdom; who Jeremy was.” Matt said. “And Jeremy has no idea that I remember.”

“That’s a pretty big thing to keep from someone, Matt.” Michael said, taking another sip of coffee to distract himself.

“I know, but if I tell him that I remember everything then he’d going to ask how we died.” Matt said, looking at the far wall with a distant look in his eye. “And I can’t tell him that.”

“Kerry got you guys.” Michael said, suddenly pulling on the right memory until he could see it clearly. Finding the bodies, the weird carvings, the funeral. The war.

“Yeah, he did. Used us in some kind of ritual.” Matt said, absently scuffing his shoe on the carpet.

This time Michael really did choke on his drink.

“ _Whoa!_ What the fuck? _Ritual_?!” Michael was staring at Matt, a horrified look on his face. “Does Ryan know about this?”

“Well I haven’t _told_ him.” Matt admitted. “But you guys were alive for longer than I was, so I thought that you’d already figured that out.”

“Nope!” Michael stood from the chair, abandoning the mug of coffee with it and grabbed Matt’s wrist. “We need Ryan.”

Matt didn’t have a moment to respond before he was pulled from the room.

***

As it turned out, Ryan _didn’t_ know about any ritual.

In fact, hearing about said ritual seemed to be right there on his list of shit he _didn’t_ want to hear first thing in the morning.

“Matt. You need to tell me. _Everything._ Literally anything and everything that you can remember about that ritual.”

Michael could feel his balls retract with the sheer amount of exhausted _fury_ in Ryan’s voice. It was a dangerous voice - not towards them, but towards any poor soul that decided to piss Ryan off today. (Michael was _infinitely_ glad that Gavin was currently unconscious and incapable of speech).

(He also wished that Ryan would take the skull mask off.)

“Well, I mean I was _dying_ at the time, and they weren’t saying stuff in a language that I could recognise.” Matt said, somehow finding the balls to be sarcastic. “But they were talking about how they could get Mogar on their side when they declared war. Then they started talking about security and contingency plans. I don’t think they planned to do a ritual until they’d actually kidnapped us.”

“Can you remember anything they said?” Suddenly, Ryan was _real_ close to Matt and was towering over him. It was intimidating, but not overly threatening. The lack of a skull mask _did_ help, but Michael was still staying pretty far away from Ryan.

Michael’s hand drifted to the gun at his side. Not touching it, but close enough. You know. Just in case.

“It wasn’t anything I could understand.” Matt said. “And I was blindfolded and tied up when they were killing me.”

Ryan faltered for a moment. His anger cracked, and for a moment Michael saw just how broken Ryan was.

How many years had it been? How long had Ryan mourned for all his friends, unable to join them? How long had he blamed himself for their deaths and how long had he punished himself for it?

But the moment passed and Ryan turned away, grabbing his phone and calling someone.

“ _Pickupcomeonepickup_ Hi! I need you back at the apartment… I know you’re with Jack but I need you here… This is _important_... Well if you’re not going to come over here then- … Look, Matt remembers. He remembers but he didn’t understand what was being said… I don’t wanna go into his memories while Gavin and Ray are-… Okay, just get here quickly and we’ll figure it out.”

Ryan ended the call, took a deep breath and turned back to face Michael and Matt.

“We need Lindsay.” He said, holding the phone in his hands and absently tapping the edge against his palm. “And Matt, I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to go into your head.”

“Go into my head?!” Matt repeated, slightly perturbed by the idea.

“It’s no big deal.” Michael said, remembering the second worst morning of his life, only a few months before. “You can barely feel it.”

“That’s not really encouraging.” Matt said bluntly.

Michael just shrugged and swallowed down the last few dregs of his (now cold) coffee.

***

Lindsay had walked into the apartment with the flair and alertness of someone who _hadn’t_ rushed someone to hospital the night before and (presumably) stayed up since then. She looked just as put together as she had the day before.

The woman she entered with looked even more so.

Sunglasses, summertime dress, heels, purple hair curled around her face and painted nails. A form of glamour that was decidedly _rare_ in the apartment.

The woman pushed the sunglasses onto the top of her head, looked around the apartment, and finally her gaze settled on Ryan. Who was looking back at her with a small smile on his face.

“James,” The woman said sweetly. She winked at Ryan and Michael felt a swell of both fear and admiration for the newcomer.

“Megan.” Ryan replied, stepping forwards. He was taller than her. He was deadlier than her (probably).

He melted into her form when she extended her arms for a hug.

Now Michael was no stranger to weirdness. Weird past life where he was actually royalty of some feral tribe? Makes perfect sense. A masked man delivers his almost overdosing roommate back to him in the middle of the night and calls him by a weird name and tells him to find a mysterious man called Ramsey? Practically mundane.

Ryan sinking into a strange woman’s embrace without a word of explanation? Well, it had happened once before, but that was beside the point.

“How you been, buddy?” The Megan woman said, stepping away so she could look Ryan over properly.

“Ah, about as good as I can be with all this shit going on.” Ryan admitted, waving off the concern in her eyes. “You changed your hair again, I see.”

“Well, the red was a pain in the ass and I had to keep moving, so purple it was!” Megan said, breaking away from Ryan and beginning to wander about the apartment. “I gotta say, Rye-Rye, you’re doing pretty well if this is where you live now.”

“Who the fuck is this?!” Michael shouted, gesturing to this _Megan_ with his whole body. Her wandering slowed and her gaze settled on Michael. Incredibly, she smiled.

“Let me guess. You’re _Michael_.” Her smile made Michael nervous, for reasons that felt eerily similar to when Ryan was quiet for too long. “I’m Meg. Ryan and I used to be hunting partners.”

“Hunting partners? Yeah, right.” Michael lifted his chin ever so slightly. “What did you hunt?”

“Anyone we wanted.”

_There_ it was. The dangerous smile and the gut-feeling that Michael should _not_ fuck with this girl.

Ever.

There would never be a good reason to mess with her.

_Ever._

“You two done?” Lindsay asked, breaking her conversation.

“Why is she here?” Michael asked in return.

Lindsay and Ryan shared a look for exactly 0.5 seconds before looking back to Michael.

“Protection.” Lindsay said, in a way that firmly shut down any argument.

“ _Alright_ …. How’s everyone at the hospital?” Michael asked, secretly itching for news on Jack.

“She’s good. Geoff’s still over there and Jeremy’s keeping him company.” Lindsay said. She seemed very distracted and Michael could only guess _what_ horrific/catastrophic/fucking crazy part of the last 24 hours was bothering her. Honestly, it was anybody’s guess.

“Hey, so are we getting this over with or what?” Matt asked, finally speaking up. His cool exterior was so horribly betrayed by his finger tapping against his thigh in agitation.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with.” Ryan said. “You need to lie down and clear your mind.”

Michael stopped himself from laughing at the look on Matt’s face.

“Hey man, if it helps,” Michael said, leaning towards Matt so the others couldn’t hear, “it’s probably not going to be as weird as being knocked out by someone invading your mind and trying to keep you there.”

Michael could only grin at the look on Matt’s face.

“Okay then. This day can’t get much weirder.” Matt muttered. He practically threw himself onto the couch and rested his hands over his stomach. “I’m ready.”

Ryan kneeled beside Matt and held out his bare hand.

“Take my hand and just clear your mind. I’ll bring Michael with me, but just don’t panic. Okay?” Ryan said. His voice sounded strange. Much too calm for the man that Michael had seen throwing sticky bomb after sticky bomb out of a car window.

Matt threw one last dubious look to Michael before doing as he was instructed. His eyes slid closed and it looked like he’d fallen asleep, holding Ryan’s hand.

“Okay, Michael, come here.” Ryan said, reaching out his other hand towards Michael.

“And what are _they_ going to do?” Michael asked, not specifying who _‘they’_ were.

“Well _I_ am going to keep an eye out for you guys.” Meg said, taking a bag from Lindsay and starting to dig around in it.

“Michael, come on.” Ryan urged, keeping his eyes on Matt. Michael could see that his chest as barely moving. He shivered. “We have to do this now.”

Michael reached out and grasped Ryan’s hand.

Then his vision went black.

***

The room was dark.

Weirdly dark, with only a few sconces along the wall that held torches.

Michael’s skin felt weird. Prickling. Like it did when he remembered _Mogar_.

He refused to look down in case he saw his tribal marks.

There was something on the floor. Two figures. Bound and blindfolded.

They were talking. Hushed whispers underneath someone else’s conversation. One of them moved. Something was passed between them. One of them drank something.

Ryan moved forwards, drifting like smoke across the floor.

Michael followed. He didn’t like the look of the shadowy figures that were hanging around the edge of his vision.

Matt was one the ground. Next to Jeremy.

They were wearing old clothes, like something out of a period drama that Jack and Gavin liked to watch on Sundays.

Two of the shadowy figures walked over and hoisted Jeremy to his feet. But Ryan stayed next to Matt, crouched down.

Slowly, Michael did the same. He kneeled on the ground next to Ryan.

Someone started speaking in some old language that Michael couldn’t comprehend, but he knew. This was the ritual.

This was how they died.

This was almost too much.

(Matt was right.)

(Jeremy shouldn’t know about this.)

Ryan was whispering furiously under his breath. Something that Michael could barely understand. And something that was making Ryan’s form shimmer ominously. It took him a few seconds to realise that Ryan was _reassuring_ Matt.

Michael took a chance and reached out towards Matt. But Ryan grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“ _This is a memory._ ” Ryan whispered, but his voice was everywhere and nowhere all at once. “ _Sort of. It’s a reenactment of his last memory._ ”

“So you can find out about the ritual?” Michael asked, his voice watery to his own ears.

“ _Yeah._ ” Ryan turned away and looked back towards Matt. Carefully, Ryan stood up and he began to search. Look for anything that could be even vaguely interesting.

Matt was oddly calm. He didn’t shake. He didn’t scream. He didn’t move.

Michael couldn’t tell if it was because this wasn’t real, or if he had been like this at the time. Either way, Michael didn’t like it.

He could hear a knife, and Jeremy’s small whimpers. He heard something dripping to the floor slowly.

The chanting kept on, even when the knife stopped.

Two figures pulled Matt to his feet and Michael could only watch him go. He _really_ didn’t want to watch was about to happen next. But he felt Ryan’s hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t watch this, Rye.” Michael hissed, forcing his gaze away. _Anywhere_ but at the man about to be ritualistically sacrificed.

Something pressed against his neck. Something grabbed his chin.

Something made him look.

Matt was chained to a slab of stone. Jeremy was next to him, his head hung but still alive. Somehow, still alive.

Their clothes had been cut off, the scraps discarded on the ground. One of the figures moved a knife across Matt’s skin. A Fish symbol hung around the figure’s neck.

The chanting grew louder and more voices joined in. Something about the change settled heavily in Michael’s stomach.

The words carved on their skin seemed like they were beginning to glow.

The glow grew brighter and the knife was poised over Matt’s heart.

The figure’s arms tensed.

Poised.

Michael knew this moment.

Michael _loathed_ these kind of moments.

This wasn’t a ‘ _WATCH OUT!_ ’ moment before you crashed your car and both you and your best friend wake up in hospital.

This was a ‘ _hey what’s that light?_ ’ moment a second before Alderaan was blown up by the Death Star.

This was _not good_.

He tried to turn away. Or to run towards Ryan.

But something kept him in place.

Something was pinning his limbs to his side.

Something didn’t want him to leave.

_Y o u  t h i n k  t h i s  i s  t h e  l a s t   t i m e   t h i s  w i l l  h a p p e n ?_

_Y o u  t h i n k  t h a t  y o u  a r e  s a f e ?_

_T h i s  w i l l  h a p p e n  a g a i n_

“ _MICHAEL!_ ”

He reached out blindly and clutched Ryan’s hand tightly.

Then the world went black.

***

Michael’s eyes snapped open and he stumbled to the floor. His lungs ached as he filled them with air. One hand clutched his chest, desperately feeling the heartbeat underneath.

Matt was coughing as Ryan rubbed circles into his back, coaxing them to work properly.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Ryan said softly. Matt’s grip relaxed as he calmed down and he let go of Ryan’s hand.

Michael felt someone touch his shoulder and (for lack of a better term) freaked the fuck out. He hit the floor and scrabbled backwards until he felt the wall against his back. If he’d had a gun near him, Michael would have almost certainly unloaded a clip into the something.

Luckily, there was no gun, and that the someone was just Lindsay.

“What the fuck happened in there?”

Michael looked up and saw Meg perched on a chair. She was leaning on an assault rifle that looked like it had had the everloving shit modded out of it. It probably had the same firepower as… Well, Michael didn’t know what. Something with a lot of firepower, probably.

“Well I’m not _sure_ , but I think we just saw Matt and Jeremy die and then something tried to get us.” Michael said, his breath coming back to him enough to speak. His heartbeat began to slow under his palm.

“No, something tried to get _you_ , Michael.” Ryan said, finally standing up and letting Matt’s hand fall from his grip. He seemed so... _big_ all of a sudden. Or Michael felt very small.

“I thought we were in my head, how could something have tried to get him?” Matt asked, recovering quicker than Michael and more alert now.

“Because we were only _kinda_ in your head,” Ryan said, “look, it’s weird and I don’t want to talk about it now, but we were in a place that _they_ could get to too. So they tried to take Michael when we were in there because he was vulnerable and wasn’t expecting it.”

“I’m guessing you got what you needed?” Meg said. Her posture didn’t change and her gaze barely moved from the door. (Michael wondered if the danger was really only in Matt’s head if Ryan had brought in Meg for extra firepower.)

“Yeah.” Ryan nodded absently. “Yeah. No idea what it means, but I got it. I’ll need your help Lindsay.”

“Whatever you need.” Lindsay promised, leaving Michael to calm down on his own.

The air in the apartment felt too hot. Too stuffy. Too enclosed.

He knew it was a bad idea as he pushed himself to his feet, but Michael did it anyway. He stumbled towards the door, past Meg, past Matt, past all of them. He barely stopped to grab his keys.

“Where are you going?” Ryan half-demanded, breaking off whatever conversation he was having with Lindsay.

“Out.” Michael’s throat felt tight and his voice reflected that.

“It’s dangerous-”

“You know what? Blow me, Ryan!”

Michael let the door slam behind him.

***

It was a universal truth to Michael that the setting sun was always pretty, wherever you were.

Michael remembered watching it set over the crowded skyline from his apartment with Ray. Michael remembered watching the sky darken from his room as a child.

The view from the top of Mount Chiliad was no different.

If he had been in a better mood, Michael might have entertained the idea of bringing explosives up with him and watching the carnage. He’d done it before with Gav and Ray. It was fun.

But now Gavin and Ray were in some kind of coma and his world was collapsing in a timelapse and Michael just wanted to go back.

But he couldn’t. And even if he could, his life had been just as controlled and fucked over as it was now.

Some dark part of Michael told him that his life was never his to begin with. But the part of him - the part of him that sounded like Jack - promised him that wasn’t true.

The motorcycle to his back felt warm from the ride up and Michael let him get lost in the sunset.

He should be careful, he knew this. Have some kind of precaution. Set up an early-warning system. Keep his gun in his hand. _Anything_.

But he just watched the sunset.

It was a little hazy over the water that looked black as ink from this height. A jet ski slowly made its way across the horizon. Somewhere, a boat was filled with rich fucks partying.

But Michael was too far removed to care.

The crunch of heavy shoes on loose rocks warned him of someone approaching. A plane took off somewhere in the distance, and Michael thought of Jack. (Not for the first time since he left the apartment.)

Loose rocks and clumps of grass were dislodged as Jeremy sat down next to Michael, leaning against the motorcycle. Neither said anything for a long time.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jeremy asked eventually, watching the people _way_ below them.

“I mean, not really.” Michael said. Jeremy accepted this and looked back over the city they both loved. Well. _Most_ of the time, anyway.

“You wanna hear about the time Matt and I got drunk and hid from the cops in a dumpster?” Jeremy said, a sly and mischievous grin on his face.

“Sure, why the fuck not?” Michael said, but he was also smiling. Just a little bit.

They spent at least an hour like that: swapping stories about various fuck up and laughing. Just… _laughing_ on the top of Mount Chiliad about stupid escapades that grew more and more elaborate as they remembered more stories.

It felt good. To just have _fun_ for once. Instead of all this doom and gloom and death and Kerry’s bullshit.  

“Hey Jeremy,” Michael said, sobering slowly as the sky darkened around them, “being real for a moment: is Jack okay? I know you were at the hospital-”

“Jack’s good.” Jeremy said, looking over at Michael with the remnants of mirth on his face. “I mean, she’s tough as shit. And we got to her before Gavin did any _real_ damage. Don’t worry, alright, Jack’ll be fine.”

Michael nodded. He would never admit just how comforting that was to him. That there was someone else in this world that had faith. Or that there was someone in this world that knew what Michael needed to hear.

“Geoff?”

“Kinda a wreck, but better.” Jeremy admitted. “He hasn’t left her side since she was admitted. I guess that’s normal for him, though.”

“ _Yeah_ , I guess.” Michael said, nodding absently as he followed a speedboat out on the ocean. “Hey, Jeremy?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Can I crash on your couch tonight?” Michael leaned his head back on the motorcycle and rolled his head to look at Jeremy. “I know that it’s literally the floor below the apartment but…”

“Sure, Michael.” Jeremy didn’t push it, and knocked Michael’s shoulder with his own. “Just don’t eat everything in the fridge.”

“Dude.” Michael put on his most offended voice. “I’m offended.”

“Good, now you won’t eat my food.” Jeremy said, pushing himself to his feet and reaching out to Michael.

“I’m going to eat all of it now out of sheer fucking spite.” Michael took the hand-up without thinking and dusted himself down.

***

A night turned into a day.

Which turned into another day.

Because Michael couldn’t face the apartment upstairs.

Eventually, it got to a point where Lindsay practically forced him to leave the apartment and go to the hospital with her.

And by ‘with her’, that obviously meant she dropped him off there and then promptly drove off, leaving him with no choice but to go upstairs.

The corridor outside of Jack’s room was quiet.

He could see Geoff through the window, sitting next to the hospital bed and holding Jack’s hand. Geoff’s lips were moving ever so slightly.

Michael stayed outside, looking in.

A big part of him didn’t want to disturb the scene.

“Can I help you?”

The voice scared the shit out of Michael and it took everything in him not to pull his gun out at the well-meaning nurse standing in front of him. Michael could see the knowing smile on the nurse’s face and caught the name tag just before she went to push open the door.

_Kdin_.

“Geoff?” Kdin said, walking into the room and leaving the door open for Michael. “The doctors need to run some tests again.”

Michael could see Geoff nod and heave himself out of his chair, pressing a gentle kiss to Jack’s forehead. He looked like shit. As he reached the door, Geoff leaned in close to whisper something to Kdin. If Michael didn’t know him better, he wouldn’t have caught what Geoff had said.

“ _Don’t take your eyes off her, okay?_ ”

“ _I know, Geoff._ ” Kdin promised, and it sounded like this wasn’t the first time she’d promised it. “Go get some sleep or something.”

“ _Yeah,_ yeah.”

Michael stepped out of the way of the door before Geoff saw him and just watched as Geoff walked a few feet down the corridor and practically threw himself into a shitty plastic chair. There was very little sound in the corridor as Michael steeled his nerves.

Footsteps made their way over to the shitty chair next to Geoff’s and it creaked under Michael’s weight.

Geoff’s fingers tapped out a senseless rhythm on his knee.

A clock down the hall ticked away the seconds.

Michael sat back in his seat and huffed out a long breath.

“Hey jackass, when was the last time you ate?” Michael half-demanded, trying to roughen his voice just a little.

Geoff blinked and looked up at Michael as if only just realising that he was there. Up close, he looked even worse. Dark circles under his eyes, his face was even scruffier than usual, his clothes were creased and Michael could tell that Geoff had _not_ left that chair for anything other than the world ending.

(Or the doctors, evidently. That was _probably_ because he was being forced to.)

Geoff didn’t reply, but he seemed a lot more responsive.

“Come on, asshole. I’m buying you a sandwich or something.” Michael said, standing up and half-shoving Geoff to his feet. Geoff put up remarkably little resistance as Michael dragged him to the hospital’s shitty cafeteria.

***

“It’ll taste like shit but it’s food.” Michael said, dumping the processed sandwiches on the table and a couple bags of snacks. He went back and grabbed the two coffees that were waiting for him, gently placed one in front of Geoff.

Geoff didn’t make a move to start eating until Michael gently shoved his shoulder. The man looked like a zombie. Or someone who’d given up on life.

Zombie.

Let’s stick with zombie.

Michael chewed on the tasteless food and watched Geoff closely. Knowing that someone was scrutinising him, Geoff looked up and frowned at Michael.

“What?” Geoff coughed and cleared his throat, obviously aware of how _wrecked_ his voice sounded and how far he was from the Kingpin who took over the city with nothing but a pistol and balls of steel.

“You need a shower.” Michael said. He knew fully well that he was antagonising Geoff, just a little. Enough to make Geoff seem more... _Geoff_.

“Fuck you.”

“And a fucking shave. You look like a hobo who wandered in here.” Michael said.

“What do you want?”

“And would it have killed you to brush your teeth?”

“ _Michael!_ ” Geoff snapped, before he withdrew and composed himself. “I get it. I’m a fucking mess.”

“Yeah. You are, right now.” Michael agreed, taking a sip of the coffee and internally grimacing at the taste. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s good.” Geoff said, and Michael suddenly had an incredible hatred for the phrase. “She should be out in a week, maybe. She wasn’t hurt all that much. The worst part is the bruising probably. Most of the damage is around the sides of her neck. The doctor said that it’s like he missed everything important on purpose.”

That brought Michael to a stop.

_On purpose_.

As in, Gavin still had some kind of control over himself?

As in…

Oh god, Ray almost shot Gavin for something he was being forced to do.

Oh _god,_ Michael almost killed Gavin for something he was being forced to do.   

Oh _fuck_.

“Hey, Geoff. By the way, do you know about Matt and Jeremy?” Michael asked, lowering his voice and leaning in.

“What? That they’re fucking?”

“No, that Jeremy can’t remember who he was but Matt can. Like, _vividly_. Like, me and Ryan could go into his memories and look around, sort of vivid.” Michael said.

“You went in Matt’s memories?” Geoff repeated, too tired and dumbstruck for it to sink in properly.

“Yeah.” Michael took another sip of his coffee before abandoning it completely. “Matt mentioned something about a ritual he was a part of before he died. Ryan said he had no idea what it _means_ , but it’s better than nothing. I think him and Lindsay are working on it together but I think I know what happened to us that night.”

_That_ caught Geoff’s attention.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, _maybe_ ? When we were in Matt’s memories, Kerry tried to get me because it was a place he could get too as well. So maybe it’s like, another dimension or some shit? And what if when we were attacked, we were taken to the same place because it was the only way Kerry could get to us? And what if they weren’t fucked up _dreams_ we were having, what if they were _memories_ of dreams we’ve had so Kerry could get to us?”

The more he spoke, the more the ideas struck Michael and the more he felt his heart race at the revelation.

“I mean, the apartment’s the more fucking secure place on the _planet_! Unless it was some weird Jedi mind trick thing there was no _way_ Kerry could have physically gotten to us. But he attacked us in our heads. Where we’re vulnerable. _Holy shit_.”

Geoff was staring at Michael with wide-eyes. The coffees were left untouched on the table.

He leaned back in his chair and wiped his hands down his face.

“I need a shower. And a fucking drink.” Geoff groaned.

Michael’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

A message from Lindsay.

_I’m outside if you need a ride._

***

Geoff didn’t stay in the apartment for long.

Just for long enough to get showered, change his clothes, pull Ryan onto the balcony and have something just a little bit more civilised than a screaming fit.

Then, he left and probably went back to the hospital.  

But hey, Michael was back in the apartment again.

Even if Ryan couldn’t stop glaring at him from under his mask.

“If you’ve got something to say, Rye, I’m all ears.” Michael said, trying for nonchalance but being _far_ too angry.

They stood on the balcony together, looking over the city. The air up there was fresher somehow, even though the entire city was probably infested.

Michael had changed as well into more comfortable clothing and his hair was still a little damp. Inside, he knew that Matt and Jeremy were trying to decide on what food to order in. Lindsay was of somewhere, doing something that Michael couldn’t understand and didn’t want to. Meg was God-knows where. She probably wasn’t even in the city anymore.

And yet, somehow they remained.

Out of everything that could have changed, and everything that did...

Somehow, Michael and Ryan were the ones left.

“Let me guess,” Michael said, sounding bitter even to his own ear, “‘ _find Ramsey'._ Or maybe ‘ _find them, then I’ll explain everything_ ’.”

Ryan looked as if he was about to start arguing, but then he just let out a long sigh and leaned on the railing.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” Ryan said, staring off at the rest of the world.

“Nope.” Michael said. There was a beat of silence before the tension broke and they both laughed. Just a little. Just enough.

Ryan’s shoulders were more relaxed as he reached up and took the mask off, placing it on the floor carefully. Michael frowned for a second before he saw Ryan pull out a packet of cigarettes and hold one in his mouth.

“Want one?” Ryan offered the packet to Michael.

“Sure. Why the Hell not?”

The cigarette tasted unfamiliar in his mouth and it took everything for Michael not to cough as he inhaled. It tasted _gross_ , but Michael could feel himself calm down as he took longer drags.

They smoked in silence for a while. Just accepting the fact that they might be the only sane ones left. And _fuck_ that was a terrifying thought.

“You know we’ve been through worse, right?” Ryan said suddenly, fixing Michael with a look that he would never get used to seeing on Ryan’s face.

Michael nodded sagely.

“I guess. But that wasn’t _me_ , right? That was Mogar.” Michael said. “The _warrior_! The _king_. I’m just a fuck up with a good aim.”

“ _Eh_ ,” Ryan said, “I mean, you had to get those skills from somewhere. If that’s all you are, then Mogar was just a fuck up with a sword.”

For some reason, the words _burned_ Michael, but in a good way. An inspirational kind of burning.

The kind that made you do better.

“Hey Ryan, Lindsay’s here. Also, what address should we give the takeout people?”

Jeremy’s voice cut through the silence and Michael saw him poking his head around the balcony door.

“Give me a sec,” Ryan said, stubbing out his cigarette and flicking it over the edge. He picked up the mask and placed it back over his head. But he paused before he went back inside. He reached out and gently grasped Michael’s shoulder for a second.

Michael felt the burning in his chest again.

Then the moment was over and Michael was left alone on the balcony, the cigarette smoke slowly curling upwards into the air.

It was so peaceful up there, but there was a loneliness there that Michael hadn’t felt before.

He wasn’t a fan.

The cigarette burned itself out and Michael crushed it under his heel.  

The phone in his pocket buzzed and he glanced at the screen.

Then he looked again and actually read the message.

_‘Meet me under the spray paint on your building_ ’

Nothing else. A blocked number.

He really should be smart about this.

_Fuck it_.

“LINDSAY! WANNA GO FOR A WALK?”

***

“Over here.” A voice said, coming from a shadow.

Lindsay kept her gun up and Michael hung back as she walked forwards first, reaching into the shadow and pulling out the person. Michael immediately pounced.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Michael shouted, shoving the intruder against the wall, pointing to the gun at them and pinning them with his forearm.

“Dude, calm down!” The man sounded terrified and threw his arms in the air as a sign of helplessness.

“TELL ME WHY THE FUCK YOU’RE HERE!” Michael demanded, shoving the gun a bit harder into the man’s pectoral muscle.

“Dude, _dude_ , I can explain everything. Please, I’m on your side. I want to help. Just- just put the gun down, _please_.” The man looked terrified but Michael refused to yield.

“WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU?!”

“Because she knows me!” The man exclaimed, visibly shaking. Michael stilled. The man’s eyes slid past Michael towards Lindsay. “Lindsay knows me. Please, Linds.” The man’s tone shifted to a plea, like he was _begging_ her to remember him.

“We can trust him, Michael.” Lindsay said, gently pulling back Michael’s shoulder. He took the hint and stepped back, dropping his arms but keeping the gun firmly in his hand.

“Now tell me who the _fuck_ you are.” Michael ordered. The man took a breath to calm himself before he spoke.

“My name is Miles.” The man said. “I’m Kerry’s righthand man.”

Michael’s arm snapped up and Miles backed against the wall so suddenly it made a sound. He threw his hands up to shoulder-height again.

“ _Whoa!_ Calm down dude.” Miles’s panicked look returned with a vengeance.

“YOU WORKED FOR KERRY YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Michael shouted.

“Michael!” Lindsay snapped, taking all the anger out of Michael’s stance.

“Look, dude. I’m risking _a lot_ just talking to you guys.” Miles said, keeping his hands visible. “Okay? If Kerry ever finds out I talked to you guys then I’m _dead_.”

“So why are you here, Miles?” Lindsay asked, infinitely calmer than Michael.

“Because I can’t do it anymore!” Miles said, his voice cracking as it rose. Michael paused and slowly lowered the gun, taking a step back.

“What do you know?” He was defensive. He had every right to be.

“I know what Kerry’s planning.” Miles swallowed hard. “I know the guy who gave Ray and Gavin drugs. He works for Kerry too. Name’s Gray. He’s like me. I know what Kerry’s doing to Gavin and how to stop it.”

“You do?” Michael asked, all the anger in his posture leaving him. Miles nodded.

“Kerry told me everything. I’ve always been loyal to him.” Miles’s voice was small and shaky.

“So why come to us?” Lindsay asked. “Why now?”

Miles didn’t talk for a few seconds.

“Kerry was going to use Gavin to kill Geoff so the prophecy would be fulfilled.” Miles finally said. “Kerry had an agreement with the Vagabond that if Geoff stayed alive until he was forty, then Kerry would leave all of you alone.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Gavin just attacked Jack. Not Geoff.” Michael corrected.

“The plan was that Gavin would take them both out. Try to make it look like an accident. Get to Jack first, get her away from the Vagabond and take her out. So you could all be _‘_ _united to mourn once again._ Then once that part was fulfilled, get to Geoff while he was mourning. Make it look like an accident if we could. Or a suicide, I guess.” Miles couldn’t quite stop his voice from breaking.

Michael couldn’t breathe for a second.

Lindsay touched his arm. She was just as horrified.

“So what then?” Michael cleared his throat to stop his own voice from cracking. “What would have happened after Geoff?”

“We would have gone after Matt and Jeremy next. Then the rest of you, and your network. He wants to burn you out of this city.” Miles said.

“For what?! What did we do?! Kill him a couple _thousand_ years ago!”

The anger began to rile up once again in Michael’s blood. He started to pace.

Then he stopped, his attention snapping to Miles again.

“The attack. That night. What was that?” Michael demanded, much less furious than he was.

“A distraction.” Miles answered, not hesitating that time. “Ryan got Kerry out of almost everyone’s head. He made you guys think that you won, but he was using it to strengthen his connection to Gavin. Ever since then, Kerry’s been using him for information.”

“You said you knew how to break it.” Michael said. “How? What do we do? What do I have to do to get Gavin back?”

“You’ll need all the magic-users you can get.” Miles said, looking firmly at Lindsay.

“I’m a bit rusty, and so’s Ryan, but we’ll get it done.”

“You’ll need the other one as well.” Miles pointed out.

“Don’t worry about it.” Lindsay promised.

“Wait, can we back up a few seconds,” Michael said, looking between Miles and Lindsay. “ _MAGIC?!_ ”

***

_"Where have you been, Moon?"_

_"I went for a walk. Looked around the city. You know this place is_ filthy!  _How can people live here?"_

_"..."_

_"..."_

_"Hurry up. We've got work to do."_

_"On it, Fish."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good god I forgot how much I hate editing these things
> 
> ~~Also, can you tell which bits were written last year?~~


	4. J.P. - The Pilot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like there aren't really the words to either apologise for taking six months to update or to sound convincing if I promised to update again soon. 
> 
> However, as I have finished all my exams and officially left school forever until I find out if I've been accepted into my first-choice university, I have a fuck-tonne of free time on my hands and I lot of AH content under my belt. I don't know what it was, but something just gave me that little _kick_ I needed to pick this back up again and keep going with it. 
> 
> I'd like to finish this fic and call the series done, and i'm going to learn from my past and not make any promises about how and when. instead, I'm going to say **thank you** to the person that's reading this and subscribed or happened to see it in the tag and read through this epic of a series I've done, and to anyone and everyone that sent me cute asks on tumblr or left a comment or a kudos bc I would be nowhere without you. 
> 
> Here's to another chapter <3 <3

_“So it worked?”_

_“I guess we’ll find out when they wake up.”_

_“...”_

_“You have questions.”_

_“Where do I fucking start? Probably with where the Hell you disappeared to two years ago?”_

_“I- I found them. They were together. I had to go to them.”_

_“Alright, that’s fair, I guess. Alright, next question: what the fuck happened to you?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I mean_ physically _. How’d they do it? You’ve got a face and skin and an appetite now.”_

_“They forgave me.”_

_“_ Fuck _. They’re the real deal, alright.”_

_“I had to find them, Meg. I’m sorry I had to leave, but I figured you’d be okay with the girls.”_

_“I am. I just missed you, Rye-Rye.”_

_“I missed you too.”_

***

Geoff’s arm linked with hers was comforting. Even more so than being in her own clothes again, and settling into the passenger seat of her own car again.

The scarf around her neck was Ryan’s idea. Best not display to the wrong people the bruises that hadn’t quite faded yet.

Jack didn’t say anything as Geoff drove, but he didn’t say anything either. Her hands gripped the edge of her shirt and she knew Geoff was glancing at her every so often. She turned her face away just a little.

There wasn’t really a word for the feeling that unsettled her.

_Relief?_ That she was out of the hospital, that she was heading back to her home, that she wasn’t _dead,_ and that there was (probably) going to be no lasting damage.

_Anger?_ That Gavin - the boy she had taken in and cared for - had been taken from them just to further Kerry’s pathetic _‘revenge’_ , that they couldn’t help him, that he’d been kept sedated until they knew what to do, that they had almost fallen apart because of _her_.

_Fear?_ That this might happen again, that they weren’t safe even in their own home, that Gavin’s wasn’t really _himself_ again, that Kerry had control over someone else, that she couldn’t trust the people she loved and cared for, that-

Geoff’s hand touched her leg and Jack snapped out of it. The garage around them caught her by surprise. She couldn’t remember turning off the highway. Her hand uncurled and she intertwined her fingers with Geoff’s.

“Hey, stop thinking so hard.” Geoff said. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, staying there for a moment and resting their foreheads together. “It’s okay. Just take your time.”

“I’ll be fine, Geoff.” Jack promised, squeezing his hand. “Come on, you promised you’d cook tonight.”

“Expensive steak to celebrate my girl coming home.” Geoff said. He hadn’t shaved in awhile and his stubble scratched just a little as he kissed her forehead. “And good wine to match.”

“Breaking the bank tonight.” Jack teased, popping open the door.

“Only the best.” Geoff walked around to the other side of the car and helped Jack out, gently looping her arm through is.

The lift ride seemed to stretch into forever. The doors opened and Jack stepped out. Part of her was terrified about what was behind her apartment door. She’d been gone long enough for the entire world to change on her. What could have happened to her one constant?

What could have happened to her family?

Geoff pushed the door open and kept it wide enough for Jack to step through.

She crossed the threshold and exhaled.

The world seemed to stall to a halt.

The apartment was just the same: controllers strewn about to be forgotten or broken in a fit of rage; random clothes and jackets hanging over chairs and on the floor; shoes placed in _just_ the right place to trip someone up; plates stacked high in the sink.

_Home_.

People were looking at her as the door shut with a solid _click!_ but no one moved.

Gavin was looking at her.

Jack was looking at him.

She took a small step forwards.

Then time sped up and she was sinking into Gavin’s arms and his head was pressing into her neck and her hands were shaking and his shoulders shook as he sobbed. His words were lost into the material of her shirt. Her tears ran down her cheeks into his hair. His fingernails dug into her. Hers did too.

“ _I’m sorry..."_  Gavin whispered, his hold so tight on her that it hurt. “ _I thought- I thought that I’d-_ ”

“ _I’m still here._ ” Jack promised. “ _I’m still here, Gavvy._ ”

And then there were more arms clutching them tight, and more bodies and more tears pressing against her and more quiet words and more apologies.

And then they were pulling away and Jack was looking Gavin in the eye. She reached up and held his head in her hands.

“Are you _you?_ ” She asked, her voice a mix of mostly concern, with just a little bit of anger.

“I’m me. I’m Gav.” Gavin promised, sniffing a little.

“Okay. Okay,” Jack said, drawing him into another hug. She could see Ryan watching them. He was bare-faced but as he caught her eye, he gave her a small, slow nod.

Her arms tightened around Gavin once more.

“Alright, I don’t know about the rest of you fucks, but I’m starving.” Geoff said, throwing off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves as he started rummaging around the kitchen.

The others didn’t move. They were either caught in the moment or caught in the headlights, Jack wasn’t sure which.

Someone stepped forwards and the spell was broken.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Pattillo.”

Jack smiled before her eyes even landed on the girl.

Purple hair, sunglasses, confident smile.

“God, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Meg practically bounded up to Jack and Jack tried to cover her wince as she threw her arms around her. The rest watched them curiously as Meg pulled away and held Jack at arm’s length.

“ _Wow_ you’ve taken some hits.” Meg said.

“Some of us have done some actual crime in our lives. Not petty theft.” Jack teased. “How’re the girls?”

“Worried after you. You missed brunch.” Meg said, digging into her pocket and pulling out an old flip-phone. “Steffie says if you miss the next one, you’re taking us all out for the nicest meal of our lives.”

Meg flicked open the phone and held it out for Jack to take. There was a message on the screen.

_'Get well soon Jack! Mimosas on Mica!’_

Jack couldn’t quite keep the smile off her face.

“There she is,” Meg said playfully, leaning back just a little to watch Jack’s face. Jack shook her head and handed back the phone with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“ _God_ , you miss _one_ brunch and they act like you’re dead.” Jack said flippantly, walking over to the kitchen.

“They thought you _were_ dead.” Meg said, following Jack and hopping up on the counter. Geoff tapped her leg with a cooking utensil and gave her a very pointed look. Meg slid off the counter and furiously looked away from Ryan’s smirk.

“You didn’t tell them I was fine?” Jack asked.

“I did eventually, but by that point B-team had already started picking up some of the slack.” Meg said, shrugging. “They thought the worst had happened.”

“I guess that explains the flowers in my hospital room.” Jack said.

“I’m pretty sure they cleared out all the florists in the damn city.” Gavin said, joining Meg in leaning on the counter. “And even _after_ they restocked Geoff’s order.” He shook his head in mock pity.

The apartment was quiet for a little while as most of the people in it desperately tried to think up conversation that was _safe_ , and _appropriate_.

Jack cleared her throat.

All eyes fell on her.

“So….” She began. “When are you going to tell me what happened to Ray?”

***

This was the story the news reports told:

A criminal known as Brownman, member of the infamous Fake AH Crew that poisoned Los Santos, was dead.

During a police car chase, Brownman and fellow member, known only as Vagabond, were escaping on a stolen motorcycle, lost control of said motorcycle, and were thrown off a bridge into the rapids below. A single body was recovered from the river after several hours, and fingerprint analysis showed that it was, in fact, the criminal Brownman.

Police searched the river and surrounding area for any trace of Vagabond, but came up empty.

Detective Burns released a statement the next morning.

“ _This comes as a great victory for the LSPD. It is high time that the low-lifes in the Fake AH Crew know that they are_ not _as untouchable as they believe they are. Brownman’s death comes as a reminder that_ nobody _is above the law._ ”

He declined any offer for an interview.

Vigils and graffiti memorials popped up all over the city. Petty crime dropped for a short while, as incidents of drug possession with intent to distribute rose.

The Fake AH Crew had not been seen since before Brownman’s death, and it seemed they would not provide any statement on their associate's demise.

Even the Twitter accounts of suspected members, Geoff Ramsey and Gavin Free, have been silent for this time.

***

This was the story as Jack heard it:

A man called Miles contacted Michael and Lindsay while she was in hospital. The man admitted that he was Kerry’s right-hand man but that he wanted to help them. He was the one that broke Kerry’s connection to Gavin and Ray.

Miles had told Ryan everything he knew about Kerry’s plan, and Ray had come up with his own: to try and trick Kerry into believing the prophecy was fulfilled ahead of his plans.

Ray faked his death.

Both Ray and Ryan survived the fall off the bridge. Ryan did something to Ray that made his heart rate and breathing slow and rendered him unconscious, so that he appeared dead. They let the police officers _‘recover the body’_.

Once Ray’s body had been taken away, Officer Burns lead the investigation and swapped out the bodies once Ray woke up. Officer Burns then escorted Ray to a prearranged meeting point, handed him off to Michael, and then left to tell the world that Brownman was dead. Michael and Ray then left in a private helicopter to the East Coast, where Michael would stay to set Ray up with a new life before coming back in after a few weeks.

The death had been faked.

But it still hurt.

***

The drink in her hand reminded her of many summer evenings, clinging to that last bit of warmth as they watched the sunset. When things were simpler and their bank accounts smaller and the world felt so much bigger. When things were paycheck-to-paycheck but not quite life or death.

The glass was mostly full anyway. Her pain medication didn’t work if she had alcohol in her system, but the pain was getting less and less each day anyway.

It didn’t hurt so much to move her head quickly, it didn’t hurt so much to shoot a sniper rifle anymore.

A lot of things hurt now, but her neck was the least of her worries.

The balcony door behind her slid open and Jack didn’t look around. She’d been doing that a lot recently. Not checking over her shoulder. Maybe that would come and bite her one day, but for now…

Ryan leaned on the balcony beside her and pulled out a cigarette box. Jack looked at the lighter in his hand and looked at the leather gloves. Worn, always taken care of, ever present. The only time she could remember him without the gloves was the night everything started going wrong. What could it be like to live without contact?

The cigarette smoke drifted upwards lazily. Ryan offered her the cigarette packet. It had been a long time since she’d smoked, but like Hell was that going to stop her.

Ryan held the lighter between them and Jack leaned into it, breathing in the smoke and the memories of rough teenage years hanging around that old park. She took another drag and tapped off the ash over the edge of the building. Then they stood in silence, smoking next to each other. Jack’s drink sat on the railing between them.

Jack didn’t know what there was to say.

Ray was gone. Jeremy and Gavin were still threatened. B-team was still picking up the slack for them.

So much was going wrong.

Eventually, Ryan reached into his pocket. The movement caught Jack’s eye and she actually laughed when she saw what it was. A box of home hair dye. ‘ _Onyx Black!_ ’

“For me or for you?” Jack asked, flicking away some more ash as the cigarette burned ever closer to the filter.

“I wasn’t wearing a helmet when I went over that bridge. The blond is too recognisable now.” Ryan said. He stubbed the cigarette out on the railing and brushed the ash off with his finger.

Ryan’s lack of a wry smile showed he wasn’t kidding.

“How long have you thought about this?” Jack asked, letting her cigarette burn her fingers.

“Ever since the smoke went away.” Ryan admitted. “I’ve looked this way for too long.”

“What, haunted?” Jack asked. It was meant to be a joke but their pain was too fresh and there were too many secrets in Ryan’s past that they didn’t know about.

Too many unsaid words. Too many relived deaths. Too many nightmares.

Jack took the box from him and started reading the instructions on the back. Ryan gently reached over and took the cigarette from her fingers, stubbing it out. He didn’t light another one, and Jack didn’t ask him too.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Jack said suddenly, looking up from the box.

“Yes, that’s the shade I want-”

“No, Rye. I mean _this_ is it, isn’t it? The prophecy.” Jack said. “You don’t just _leave_ this kind of life. Either you die in prison or you die in a getaway car. Ray _left_. He left. You helped stage his death. ‘ _When the mind clears, the New Kings and Queen will be united to mourn once again_ ’. It all fits!”

“The Fates are… _imprecise_. That could have meant anything. Ray thought made his interpretation a reality.” Ryan said. But he didn’t even seem convinced by his own non-commitment.

“They’ve been right so far.” Jack said. Her finger was tapping on the box rhythmically. “Did the Fates ever say what happens after this? There has to be more to this.”

“Jack.” Ryan said suddenly, gripping Jack’s arms and looking her in the eye. He was maskless and barefaced and Jack could see the worry etched into every timeless inch of his face. “People have gone mad living by prophecies. People have spent _years_ , _decades,_ trying to decode a few lines and then falling to some worse fate. Jack, please listen to me: prophecies aren’t life. Kerry heard this one and is trying to make it mean what he wants it to mean. He wants it to mean that he kills one - or all -  of us. We made it mean something else.”

Jack looked away.

She felt like a child, being scolded. But she knew that Ryan had a point. Wasn’t literature filled with prophecies with double-meanings and tricks.

“I don’t like not having a plan.” Jack said eventually, looking over the nearby buildings. She wondered what they must look like to everyone else. Would they know they were looking at two of the deadliest people in the city? Two of the most feared gangsters that regularly threaten the streets and have half the police force on their payroll? Or would they see two broken people trying desperately to glue pieces back together.

“I know, Jack.”

“Everything’s up in the fucking air and I hate it.”

“I know.”

“I miss him.”

“I do too.”

Then Ryan’s arms were holding her and Jack was gripping his jacket and they were just quietly holding each other. Her head was resting on his neck and his chin was digging into hers. Jack took a deep breath and let the memory take her.

The leather became cloth and Ryan was thinner, wearier, lost. Warmer. More alive. His heart beating in his chest loudly and his veins flowing with _life_.

They stood in Ryan’s castle; simpler, effective but grand in it’s own way. Not as large and impressive as the Ramsey’s, but filled with more history, more charm, more loyalty. The room must have been the war room, with maps plastered on the walls and a table large enough for six.

Jack stood back and looked at her friend. Ryan looked younger. The crown on his head was golden with no jewels and small engravings lining it. Jack didn’t know what they meant, but that was alright.

Her clothes were simpler, more practical. The familiar smallsword hanging at her side. The chainmail around her flat chest. Jack the King, standing before King Haywood. Childhood friends who had seen everyone around them fall desperately pushing back the forces that wanted them eradicated. The only brothers left.

“We don’t have to do this.” Ryan said softly, reaching out and adjusting Jack’s chainmail slightly.

“Yes we do, Ryan.” Jack said. “I’ve already named my successor.”

Ryan’s laugh was weak, but it was a start.

“This is it. This is when we end the war, one way or another.” Ryan said, mostly to himself. “Today Dragonface dies.”

“Today we end this, together.” Jack said. “May all our legacies live on.”

“Don’t act like we won’t be part of that, Jack.”

Jack blinked and looked at Ryan. Her Ryan.

The Ryan with the haunted eyes and untouchable skin. Who lived for centuries waiting for them to return to him.

Ryan’s face was wet and she could feel tears on her own cheeks. Were they both thinking of that moment, both of them mourning their friends and brothers and children, fighting their last, desperate push towards safety.

“We’ll kill him, Ryan.” Jack said, wiping her face and sniffing resolutely. “We’ll fucking put him in the ground.”

“There she is.” Ryan said, brushing away a few of her stray hairs with his gloved hands. “That’s the Jack, I remember.”

“Damn right, I am.”

***

“We need a heist.”

Geoff looked up from the various sheets of paper in front of him and frowned. It was getting late into the night and everyone else had either crashed out or gone to play games in peace in their own rooms. Geoff’s drink was half empty and Jack’s was untouched. No one questioned this.

“We’re doing pretty good for money-” Geoff started saying, glancing back down at his laptop in case he’d missed something Jack hadn’t.

“I don’t mean for money.” Jack said, sitting up a bit straighter on the sofa. Her hair was piled on the top of her head and the bruises around her neck were almost completely gone. “I mean I want to see what Matt and Jeremy can do.”

“Have you taken them to the gun range?” Geoff asked.

“I’m taking them tomorrow.” Jack said. “I just think it’s time for us to show our faces again. It’s been over a month.”

Geoff finished his drink and ran a hand over his face. He mussed his hair up even more and looked at Jack.

“We’re not ready.” He said, his voice straining just a little. “Our dynamic’s all messed up, we’ll have to go over all our contingency plans and adjust them. We’ll need more range support. There’s a lot that needs to change before we can heist again.”

“So let’s do it.” Jack said, shifting forwards a little. “Let’s do it all again. All the late night planning, scoping out the places, planning routes and alternate routes. What’s stopping us?”

“Jack, we can’t. Michael isn’t back yet-”

“But he’s coming back in a few days. This is the perfect time!” Jack said. She reached out and took one of Geoff’s hands, clasping it tightly. “Ray’s safe away from us. He’s safer than he is _with_ us. Life can’t stop because he chose to leave.”

Something about her words struck something in Geoff’s sleep-deprived state. He picked up Jack’s drink and began to knock it back.

“We start small. Take Matt and Jeremy out on a few small jobs, only if they want to. Then if that all goes well, I’ll start looking at potential hits.” Geoff said. It wasn’t an outright _yes_ , and there plenty of ways in which the whole thing could be called off, but it was good enough. Close enough to permission that Jack didn’t care about the strings attached.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of hiding in my own city.” Jack said, taking her drink from Geoff and taking a sip. “To taking back Los Santos.” She said, lifting her glass in a small toast.

Geoff smiled. It was his smile that charmed, that warned, that won over anyone who wasn’t willing. The kind of smile that Jack knew was very rarely meant sincerely, and only ever around her or Gavin. A double-edged smile.

“To living like kings.” Geoff agreed, leaning in and kissing her softly.

***

Jack pushed open her car door and tried not to think about the last time she rolled up here. Gavin was in good spirits as he helped her drag the bags over to the tables. Maybe because Michael was coming back soon, or maybe because Gavin loved the gun range. Either way, no one was really complaining.

It took Jack a few minutes to set up all the targets while Gavin laid out the different types of gun and gave their two passengers a quick rundown of different each type.

“Have either of you two used a gun before?” Jack asked, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out the safety equipment.

“I’m from the south, Jack. Of course I’ve been to the gun range a few times growing up.” Matt admitted, but he was looking at all the guns warily.

“I’ve got a little bit of experience.” Jeremy said, but he didn’t look nearly as uncomfortable.

“Alright, we’ll take it easy then.” Jack said, handing them goggles and ear plugs. “Just try and hit the targets as best you can, I just want to see what we’re working with. Gav?”

“Alright Lads, step up and I’ll show you how to get started.” Gavin said, bringing out his professional voice as he started walking them through the steps. Matt followed the instructions tentatively, letting Gavin help him when he was too unsure. Jeremy listened to the instructions and followed them to the letter. But that wasn’t what caught Jack’s attention the most; it was the way they held the guns as they took aim and pulled the trigger.

Jack tucked that information away for later. Later she might ask them. For now, she just watched.

“Try a sniper rifle next.” Jack said quietly to Gavin as she set the targets back up.

“Which one?” Gavin asked, briefly admiring Matt’s bullet holes. (Not the most accurate they’d ever seen but in the right places to do some damage.)

“Give the heavier one to Jeremy.” Jack said, stripping away Jeremy’s headshot practices and replacing it with a clean sheet.

“What are you thinking, Jack?” Gavin asked quietly, pretending to adjust the sheet so they had another moment to talk without suspicion.

“I’m thinking they’re better than Geoff wants to believe.” Jack said.

“You think they’ve done this kind of stuff before?” Gavin glanced over his shoulder at the two men idly chatting to each other behind them.

“I hope so.” Jack said. “It would make the heist much easier.”

“We heisting again?” Gavin asked, the familiar spark in his eye now.

“Geoff said he wants to take them out on a few smaller jobs first before a big heist, so I might take them on a couple quick elimination runs.” Jack said.

“You think you can handle a run?” Gavin asked. And then he reached out like he wanted to touch her arm but quickly snatched his hand back.

It wasn’t until that moment that Jack realised this was the first time they had been alone together since the incident. Up until now, there was always Geoff or Ryan nearby, or Gavin would quickly make an excuse to leave if it was just them. Maybe it was the fact that Jeremy and Matt were standing a few yards away, or maybe it was the gun range, but something had brought them here without a second thought. And now they were alone with only the crushing weight of a physical attack pushing Gavin away.

Jack reached out and gripped Gavin’s shoulder. He flinched, but Jack held on. Slowly, he looked her in the eye. The guilt was killing him.

“Gav,” Jack said, “I forgave you a long time ago. No need to beat yourself up anymore, alright? We need to be a team for this; I need you here for this.”

Gavin nodded, and Jack quickly pulled him in for a hug, aware but uncaring of their audience. What surprised her was how tightly Gavin hugged her back.

***

A ginger cat flicked its tail as it watched the two men practice their aim at the gun range. No one seemed to notice the ginger cat sat there, watching.

The man with his new black hair, and his leather jacket sat on the ground beside the ginger cat. Idly, he reached out and scratched the cat on the head. He was also just watching.

“They don’t know.” The man said. He looked at Jack for a moment.

The cat’s tail brushed against his hand. It meowed. He nodded once.

“I know. Soon. I promise.”

***

That night Jack dreamed of a crown, and a tree, and a boy.

She knew of all these things separately, but she knew they shouldn’t exist together.

The boy was stood in front of the tree. He didn’t wear his crown yet, but she knew later that day he would.

“Jack,” the boy said, not looking to Jack’s place beside him. This wasn’t the real Jack, the _present_ Jack. This was Jack the King.

And the boy was Gavin.

His green was gone, and his hair had been pushed back out of his face. The cloak hanging heavily from his shoulders was a deep red that brushed against the ground. Jack knew that it would be fastened with a golden clasp, and the outfit underneath is was black and lined with expensive cloth. Jack knew, because that was what Geoff wore on his coronation day.

Jack hadn’t left Gavin’s side since they’d found him this morning. The setting sun threw shades of orange over the high castle walls.

Gavin reached out suddenly, and put his hand against the tree bark. Jack did not.

“I spent so much time in this orchard when I was little.” Gavin said quietly.

“You liked the orchard.” Jack said, looking past the trees. “Do you remember when we found you Lads with twigs in your hair playing kingdom?”

Gavin laughed a little. His fingers dug into the tree.

“I remember playing out here with Matt when we were children.” Gavin said, looking up at the boughs of the tree. “I wish they were here to see this.”

“Maybe they are.” Jack said quietly. She looked at the statue of the two figures. She remembered that terrible morning and the week that followed.

“It’s not the same.” Gavin said. His head tipped forwards and Jack gave him a moment of private sorrow. Just a moment.

He stood up straight when her hand touched his back and he wiped his eyes. Gavin adjusted the cloak around his shoulders and held his head up higher.

“I’m alright. I’m okay.” He said. He was trying so hard to pull himself together. The Kingdom needed a King again after Geoff…

Gavin needed some time to heal, some time to grieve, but he couldn’t do that in the middle of a war. Not when the man who raised him now lay buried in the ground.

Jack knew exactly the pain Gavin was going through, but she’d had a longer life to learn how to hide his pain. To tuck it away until you were alone where you could cry all you wanted to.

“Gavin…” Jack said suddenly. She reached into a pocket hidden in the folds of her jacket and withdrew an old, worn piece of paper. “This isn’t the right time, but with everything that has happened in these last few months… I cannot let this be a secret.”

“I don’t understand.” Gavin admitted, reaching for the paper but not taking it.

“It was Geoff’s worst kept secret that you were brought to the castle as an infant and he raised you. Most people believe you are his illegitimate heir, some people believe you were an illegitimate child from a family member that Geoff took in so that he may _have_ an heir. But you know there is no blood shared between you and Geoff, that is the truth.” Jack held Gavin’s gaze as she spoke. It was important that he knew this. “When you were brought to the castle, a note was tucked into your blankets. Geoff summoned Ryan and I as soon as you arrived. I’ve had this note ever since, and he made me promise to keep it secret. However, times have changed. And I believe that this can help you in this war.”

Gavin looked down at the note again and finally took it from Jack’s hand. It was old, and very well-thumbed. Jack had read the note a million times over the years. She could recite it from memory if she wanted.

But all she did was wait for Gavin to read it.

Maybe it was a bad idea to give him this note an hour or so before his coronation, but Jack knew she had to. They may not have been another time to be able to.

Geoff may have been alright to take it to his grave, but Jack couldn’t do that to Gavin.

Jack woke up the next morning, guilt settled heavily in her gut. 

***

Jack leaned against the car, her cigarette lit between her fingers. She tapped her foot against the asphalt.

A figure started walking towards her and Jack raised a hand to shield her eyes. She smiled. The cigarette was ground out beneath her heel and she pushed herself to a stand as the figure stopped in front of her.

He threw his arm around her and held her close, trying to be cautious of her neck and considerate of the hefty duffel bag hanging from his shoulder.

“ _Fuck_ , it’s good to see you.” Michael said, standing arms-length away and beaming. He looked tired, and Jack wasn’t sure if that was from the long flight or from leaving one of his oldest friends. “How’s everything been around here?” He asked, dumping his bag in the back and sliding into the passenger seat.

“Pretty quiet, really.” Jack said, turning the car and waiting for Michael to buckle himself in. They both knew what ‘pretty quiet’ really meant. “How was the flight?”

“Fucking _awful_.” Michael complained, launching into a long stream of how bad everything had gone and that one annoying woman who sat behind him and kicked his chair the entire flight.

That story morphed into funny anecdotes from his visit, which turned to small funny moments from home. Jack told him about coming home from the hospital, and how Ryan dyed his hair, and how Gavin and Jeremy got into a motorcycle race down the freeway that almost ended in a high-speed police chase.

Michael laughed at the right moments and slowly let his energy build back up. The radio played some popular song interspersed with police updates and annoying radio games between the presenters and the audience.

“You hungry?” Jack asked, waiting patiently at a red light. A small voice in the back of her head started remembering the last heist when she drove down this road, and the thrill in her veins as she ran the light and left skid marks on the road behind her. How Gavin in the backseat fired out tires behind them. How Ryan laughed as he launched the RPG into the flood of police behind them.

“ _God_ , I’m starving.” Michael said, stretching out in his seat.

“Pick a place.” Jack said, turning onto a highway. Michael drummed his fingertips on the dashboard for a moment before he looked over and smiled at Jack.

“How about a Classic?” He said.

“That sounds pretty great to me.” Jack agreed, taking the next turn off.

***

The rustic diner they slid into was almost an inside joke between Jack and the Crew. It was the one she first took Gavin to, that fateful day all those years ago. It was where they took Ray and Michael after their first job as members of the Crew. When Ryan’s appetite resurfaced, they were out for milkshakes there.

And there they were again, Jack and Michael, sat across from each other in a booth tucked away in the corner.

“So,” Michael said, sitting back against the cracking leather of the seat, “not that I’m not fucking _thrilled_ to see you all up and kicking ass again, but what the fuck is going on?”

Jack idly wiped away the lipstick stain on her straw. She tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced around to make sure no one was paying too much interest in their conversation.

“They’re out on a job.” Jack said, moving her hand in a way that would obscure her mouth just in case. Michael’s shoulders tensed from either the words or from Jack’s action, but now he was paying attention.

“What kind?” Michael asked, keeping his posture as casual as he could. But everything else about him was poised for action. Tense. Ready to go.

“They’ve taken Jeremy out into the field.” Jack said. “He’s good with a gun and we need some more manpower.”

“Just Jeremy?”

“Matt’s providing support from the apartment.” Jack said, not elaborating. Not right now.

Michael looked over to the waitress, and nodded politely as she placed the food on the table between them. Neither of them began to eat.

“Ray’s only been gone for a few weeks.” Michael said, taking a sip of his beer. “Do you think we’re ready for this again? To do all this shit again?”

“That’s what this job is about. If it goes well, and everyone works well together, then we’ll start thinking about bigger heists.” Jack said. “We’ve never been out of the game for this long before, and I don’t want them to start getting any ideas.”

“Hey, I’ve trusted you for this long.” Michael said, holding his hands up to his shoulders and shrugging. “If you and Geoff think this is a good idea, then I’m with you.”

Jack glanced up over Michael’s head.

A TV screen mounted on the far wall was playing the news. There was a little smile on Jack’s face as she watched the story that was playing. Michael frowned at the look on her face and twisted around to see what she was looking at.

Helicopter footage showed a car being pursued down a highway. They were too far away to see the people inside the car, but Jack saw the flash of a golden gun hanging out of the back window. A man was clinging onto the roof of the car, his legs stuck inside the back seat, with a rifle in his hands. He was shooting out tyres of the police cars behind them. Suddenly, a police car exploded and a motorcycle sped up through the flames to ride alongside the car. The rider wore a helmet in the shape of a skull.

“Looks like a good idea.” Jack said, beginning to tuck into the food.

The scrolling bar along the bottom read, in bold, black letters ‘ _BREAKING:_ _HAVE THE FAKES RETURNED?’_

***

“Rise and shine, A-Holes! Heist room in ten minutes! I expect you to be awake and presentable!”

Jack sipped her coffee at the Heist table as she waited for the rest of the Crew to make an appearance. The only other person there was Ryan. His black hair was tied back in a very sloppy ponytail and he looked sleepy as he stole a bit of Geoff’s abandoned coffee. It felt like every day, Ryan was becoming more and more comfortable with his half-normal life. He even started wearing comfier clothes around the apartment and letting himself relax as much as the rest of them. Even if he kept as much skin as possible covered at any time.

After he’d felt like he’s shouted at the Lads enough, Geoff came back in, took his coffee firmly back from Ryan and sat in his chair at the head of the table. Jack couldn’t see them, but she knew from the stiffness in all their movements, that they all had bruises from the job the day before. At least she hadn’t had to dig a bullet out of someone this time.

“Get your own, Haywood.” Geoff chided, holding his coffee away from everyone else.

“Don’t wanna.” Ryan mumbled, crossing his arms on the table and laying his head on it. He grumbled something that sounded like a half-hearted threat when Jack nudged him with her foot. She sighed and quickly shot Gavin a text message to bring another mug of coffee when he finally turned up.

Gavin - having years of experience with how Geoff approaches planning - turned up five minutes later with two hot mugs of coffee in his hands. Ryan didn’t even look up as one was placed beside him and just blindly reached out towards it, pulling it close with a gloved hand. He finally lifted his head to take a sip when he presumably realised that you can’t drink fresh, hot coffee lying down. (The whole exchanged may or may not have been recorded by Gavin.)

Michael showed up not much later, his hair still damp from a shower and his phone out on the table as he took a seat next to Jack.

After the allotted ten minutes, Geoff stood up again to wrangle the remaining occupants of the apartment. Geoff was talking to them as he lead them into the room.

“-this is the most secure place in the entire apartment. If anything ever goes wrong, or you feel unsafe, you drop whatever you’re doing and you haul ass in here and lock that door.” Geoff said, closing the door behind them and demonstrating the heavy lock that would keep the door from moving. “Got it? If you need to, grab a gun from your room but you come here and hunker down. There’s snacks and drinks in the cooler over there. Alright, now sit down so we can start the meeting.”

Geoff tried to sound dismissive but everyone sat at the table shared a glance as Matt and Jeremy took a seat. They all knew why Geoff was telling them that. They were uncomfortably aware of the fact that there was a very _real_ possibility that Matt and Jeremy may need to hide in this room.

“What are we doing, Geoff?” Jack asked, more to move the conversation on than anything.

“We’re doing a heist, Jack.” Geoff said, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing a whiteboard pen from the table.

Jack took a sip of coffee and watched the others reactions. Jeremy was sat up in his chair, attentive. Matt was sat back, cool and interested. Michael and Gavin were wide-eyed, excited, itching for another heist. Ryan’s head was still against the table until Gavin poked his ribs and he finally started paying full attention.

“We’ve got a contact that needs some specific files from a rich fuck and we’re the best, so we’re going to be the thieves.” Geoff said, pulling a few files out of a drawer off to the side. He threw them on the table and Gavin started handing them out to the people at the table. Jack didn’t open hers, but she saw Jeremy start to look through the information given.

“So we’re cat burglars now?” Michael asked. His file was open but he wasn’t reading it.

“Gavin and Jeremy are.” Geoff said, gesturing to them lazily. “They’re going in disguised, stealing the files and shit, while the rest of us are raising hell.”

“Sounds good. Tell us the details.” Ryan said, lazily spinning his coffee mug. But his eyes were bright with interest now.

“You got it, Rye. You and Jack go and knock out the power to the target building.” Geoff circled the building on the map of Los Santos behind him in a red marker. “At that point, Gav and Jeremy will be inside the building, ready to rob them blind. While they are doing this, to draw some of the heat away, Michael and I are going to wait for Ryan and then we’re going to rob a bank.” He drew a cross on a bank that was across the street from the circled building.

“Potential gain?” Michael asked.

“Cool half mil if we’re lucky. Couple hundred thousand if we aren’t.” Jack chipped in.

“So we’re raising Hell, robbing a bank, when Gavin and Jeremy are done and they’ve got the files, they make their way to the roof where Jack is waiting with her chopper. They give us the signal, we start our getaway in an armoured car parked in the alley behind the bank. We lose the cops, make our way back here, while Jack takes Bank Team to the airport to ditch the chopper. When we’re all back here, we split the profits and send the files off to our very rich and shady friend.”

During his speech, Geoff had been drawing potential getaway routes on the map in two different colours. When he finished talking he capped the pens and stuck only one of them behind his ear.

“Questions?” He said.

“What sort of security are we looking at for the files?” Gavin asked. He held his hand up like a student getting the teacher’s attention.

“The building's security patrol rotas are in the files, but there’s a firewall that stops outside hacking, and an internal firewall that needs to be bypassed.” Geoff said. He pointed at Gavin like a teacher calling on a student. “Anyone else?”

“Hey, so, are we going for holding hostages in the bank, or a in-and-out kind of situation?” Michael asked. He didn’t hold his hand up.

“We need to buy Bank Team time, so hostage situation.” Geoff said.

“How are we knocking out the power?” Ryan asked, sounding much more bored that he really was.

“EMP.” Jack said, shrugging casually. “I know a guy; we just need to get it by the building’s generators.”

“Backup generators?” Ryan barely turned his head to look at her.

“In the same place in the building.”

“Nice.” Ryan said, looking from her back to the map behind Geoff. He looked significantly less bored now.

“Hey new guys, any questions?” Geoff asked.

“What’s Matt doing?” Jeremy asked. He’d begun to spread some pages from the file (segments of maps, floor plans, basic personnel files for building security, heist homework) on the table as he listened, taking this far more seriously than any of the other Lads had.

“He’s staying in the apartment and coordinating the entire heist. He’s also going to help with most of the prep work.” Geoff said, with all the flair of an entertainer. “Matt’s in charge of building the fake identities, getting our boys clearance and fooling the security networks in the bank.”

There was silence in the room for a second before Matt cleared his throat.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because you look at guns like you never want to touch one ever again, and because out of the two of you, I want the one with the bigger history of street crime to be out in the field.” Geoff said. He nodded and Jack flipped open her file and began reading.

“Jeremy Dooley. Alias Rimmy Tim. Arrested for suspected gang activity three times, arrested for possession of illegal drugs with intent to sell. Bailed out each time and all charges dropped.” Jack said, flipping the page. “Matthew Bragg. Arrested as a juvenile for gaining illegal access to a local governing database. Suspected to be connected to several other widespread hacks but never confirmed.”

Gavin gave a low whistle and looked at the two newest members.

“The best you could think of was ‘ _Rimmy Tim_ ’?” Gavin said, barely containing a shit-eating grin.

“I refuse to feel bad about my alter ego.” Jeremy spoke with such a serious conviction that Jack could only admire it.

“How did you get that?” Matt asked, nodding at the rap sheet. He was tensed. Maybe he was expecting a fight, or an argument.

“Hey asshole, you think we got this far without some cops on our side?” Jack said. “We called the same guy who’s been keeping our names out the news reports and he was way more than happy to call your hometown sheriff.”

“You guys sure do know a lot of important people, huh.” Jeremy said, half in awe.

“Networking, kid. Saves lives.” Geoff said dismissively.

No one talked about how many years it took them to claw their way to where they were. How many bad jobs and shady deals they had to take; how many favours they had to give and take advantage of; how many people they had to leave buried out in the desert for the vultures.

No one wanted to admit how many lives they ruined just to make theirs that little bit less shitty.

Survival of the ones with the better weapons.

“So are we all clear on the plan?” Geoff asked, throwing the sharpie on the table. No one spoke. “Great! We’ve got a week people, so start getting your shit together.”

***

Jack cut the engine and sat in quiet for a moment.

She adjusted her sunglasses, squinting against the setting sun. This far out from the city, there weren’t enough buildings to block out the sunlight at this angle. But there were fewer witnesses, and that was the important thing when storing borderline-illegal amounts of weaponry in a secure location.

She sighed and leaned back against the headrest. Her companion did not.

Matt was too busy looking out the front window, and not at her.

“You can leave this, you know.” Jack spoke quietly. This was a conversation that she hadn’t had with many other people in her life, and it never got any easier.

“What?” Now Matt was looking at her. He was frowning.

“You can leave before you’re in too deep.” Jack said. “Get out of the city, set up somewhere else with a new name. I’ll help you. Give you a cover story. Clear your record. Anything you needed for a new life.”

“Wh- How the fuck would you do that?” Matt’s tone was sharp, but not enough to be offensive.

“I’ve done it before.” Jack said.

“Ray-”

“I’m not talking about Ray.”

Matt’s jaw shut with an almost audible click of his teeth. He waited to see if Jack would carry on. She didn’t.

“What makes you think I want to leave?” Matt asked instead.

“You haven’t unpacked your bags.” Jack rolled her head so she was looking at Matt. She carefully pulled her sunglasses up on the top of her head so they could look each other in the eye.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Matt said reflexively. Jack sighed and ran a hand over her face.

“I’m not trying to say that you _should_ leave, Matt, but I’m saying the option’s there. This life isn’t kind. To _anyone_. And with all this shit with Kerry… I’m just saying, that you could get out of here safe and sound if you wanted.” Jack said.

“You don’t think Kerry would track me down if I left?” It wasn’t a question.

“Technically we’re less trackable when we’re separated.” Jack said.

“Kerry found me before.” Matt said.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up and she shifted in her seat slightly to look at him face on.

“Well that’s something I didn’t know.” She said. “Are you okay to talk about it?”

“I mean, it’s no big deal,” Matt said, but everything in his body language told him otherwise, “when I was in high school, I was part of this after-school program for college early-entry stuff. It was pretty cool, but I remember one day I was walking home by myself, headphones on and this guy is suddenly standing in front of me. He’s telling me that there’s someone following me. And because I’m a stupid kid, I turn around to look, and when I do the guy in front of me grabs me by the throat. After that, I woke up the next morning in a hospital bed. Whatever he did to me almost fucking killed me.”

The low radio began playing some pop song that Jack had heard far too many times from that station and she shut the sound off. The silence inside the car was almost suffocating after that.

“Have you told Jeremy this?” Jack asked. She awkwardly cleared her throat and glanced out the windshield.

“I mean, he _knows_ that I’ve got a fuck-tonne of scars on my chest, but I never told him exactly what happened.” Matt said. “I told him I had a lot of surgeries when I was a kid. It’s pretty close to the truth.”

“The scars don’t look like _words_ , do they?” Jack asked, a spike of panic in her gut.

“No? They look like someone tried attacked me.” Matt said, pulling a confused face at Jack’s sudden relief.

“ _Well that’s something at least._ ” She muttered. “Do you know for sure that it was Kerry that did that?”

“I didn’t know the first time, but it sure as fuck was him the second time.” Matt said this all so casually that he missed the look that flickered over Jack’s face.

“How many times has he found you?” Jack asked, feeling the fear in her own chest.

“Three. That time in high school, once a few weeks after I started college, and the last time he found me was a couple days after you guys did your first big heist.” Matt said. “He only managed to hurt me the first time.”

“Any idea why?”

“I was kinda hoping you guys could fill me in on that one.” He said.

Jack sat back against her seat. All at once, she felt old. Older than she’d ever felt before. She felt like she had back in that war room, holding Geoff close the day they found the bodies outside the castle. Old. Unending. At fault.

“I’m sorry. I guess we keep dropping the ball on that one.” Jack said. It was a poor apology and an even worse excuse, to her at least. She wanted more than anything for Matt to let her hide him away. To protect him from the bullets and from Kerry, and to give him the life that he could have if he ran.

But if Kerry could find him then…

If Kerry could find him then, then what could he do without a small militia’s worth of guns keeping him away.

(Like that stopped him before.)

“Have you told Ryan any of this?” Jack asked. “See if maybe he could help?”

“He freaked out about the ritual thing, and I didn’t want him to dig around in my head again.” Matt’s shoulders seemed to curl in now, like he was shying away from something.

“Sharing memories isn’t that bad when you get used to it.”

“That memory is.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this from me, but I think the others should know this.” Jack said haltingly. “After the heist, at least. I also think that I should tell you I didn’t only find your rap sheet when I did some digging.”

“What else did you find?”

“Basic stuff. Medical and school records, social media accounts, I even found your college professors. And I found some incident reports that had almost been erased from the police database.” Jack paused, and she watched Matt’s face for a moment. She nodded to the glove compartment. Hesitantly, Matt reached into it and pulled out the file. He didn’t open it.

“You read it?”

“Enough to know why you wanted to delete them. Even going so far as to break the law to hack into a federal database to do so.” Jack said.

“Is this a threat?”

“No, those are the only existing copies of the incident. They’re yours now. This is your clean slate.” Jack said.

Matt’s fingers tapped against the file. It felt like it should be some kind of code that Jack was never patient enough to learn. Some part of her wondered where Matt had picked it up.

“Thanks. For this.” Matt said finally. He wasn’t looking at Jack, so Jack looked away. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon and the light was fading fast from the sky. “Hey, uh… Just for transparency and shit, before I met you guys I dug up some stuff on you.”

“What sort of stuff?” Jack asked, finally turning the car off. They had a big job to pull off soon, and the majority of their weapons and ammo was still in that storage container. She also had a few new presents for her boys that she would like to get back into the apartment as soon as possible.

“Every crime you ever committed, basically.” Matt said. “It’s pretty impressive.”

“We try.”

Matt took a breath before he spoke again.

“I also found the medical examiner report of your parent’s death. And it’s rough.” He said. “The police named Geoff as one of the suspects in the beginning of the investigation. They only stopped when this guy Joel gave the cops a watertight alibi for him.”

“Joel?” Jack repeated. Words could never describe the feeling that took over her when she heard that name again.

“Yeah. He used to be your boss, didn’t he?” Matt said. His grip on the file had tightened.

“He was a good friend. _Is_. _Is_ a good friend.” Jack said.

“He doesn’t exist. Legally, I mean.” Matt was looking at her with an almost nervous look on his face. He didn’t let the confused look on Jack’s face stop him. “There’s no record of him _anywhere_. No birth certificate, no social security number, nothing. The first time he ever exists is when he started working as Geoff’s boss when he was a mechanic.”

“What else have you found?” Jack asked, more curious now than anything.

“Where you worked? _Also_ didn’t exist until Joel started working there, but within a week it had a stable client base and multiple employees. The weirdest part is that Ryan is listed as one of the employees up until a couple weeks before you quit your job there.” Matt said.

“You didn’t hack into your local government when you were a kid, did you?” Jack asked. She refused to admit just how impressed she was by how much information Matt had managed to find out going off so little information.

“‘ _Local’_ is a bit of a stretch.” Matt said.

“What was it?”

“The Pentagon.”

Jack let out a low whistle.

“Successfully?” She asked.

“Enough to let them know they needed to update their security system.”

And suddenly Jack smiled.

“You’re going to be something great, Matt.” She said, popping open her door and stepping out into the cooling desert air.

***

_“You’re not worried?”_

_“No. Why would I be?”_

_“Because a lot of guns means a high chance of death? I mean, heists are dangerous, Rye.”_

_“I know, but you haven’t seen these guys in action.”_

_“I’ve seen the news footage. But I guess if you aren’t worried, then why should I be?”_

_“...”_

_“...”_

_“...”_

_“How much longer?”_

_“Just under four years. Then they’re safe.”_

_“What are you going to do after that? Are you still going to hang out?”_

_“I don’t know, Linds. I haven’t let myself think that far ahead.”_

_“You have time to think about it, Ryan. Consider your options.”_

_“I’ve had nothing but time for centuries."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> editting these things will never not be a pain in my arse. 
> 
> five hours of computer science exams are less painful than editting this shit

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as [private-doughnut](http://private-doughnut.tumblr.com/) so feel free to drop an ask or message :D


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